


No Comets Seen

by kyokokittychan



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone wants to protect Peter, Found Family, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not Canon Compliant, Other, Peter Parker Whump, Precious Peter Parker, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships, Unreliable Narrator, Warped Perception, Whump, bad guys have a change of heart, no romantic relationships, peter is just a child, villain guilt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 152,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28193469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kyokokittychan/pseuds/kyokokittychan
Summary: Peter has never really considered his age to matter when it came to Spiderman, even though all the adults in his life would disagree. He never thought it would change anything until a fateful encounter with the Sinister Six. When Peter is defeated by Doc Ock and his identity revealed he'll come to find that his age might have just saved his life. The Sinister Six seemingly have a change of heart at the discovery of Peter's age and have decided to keep him safe from the ones that would do him harm, even if it's against Peter's own will. Now trapped with his greatest foes Peter has to use his wits to escape from their clutches, but is it really evil clutches when they seem like they're saving him?
Relationships: Matt Murdock & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Sinister Six, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, peter parker & doctor octavius
Comments: 323
Kudos: 459





	1. Blaze Forth

_"When beggars die, there are no comets seen; The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes."_ -Shakespeare, Julius Caesar 

Blood sprang into his vision as his body collided with the wall behind him. A loud crack could be heard and Peter was unsure if the crack was the wall or his back breaking, but neither seemed to matter in the moment as his body crumbled lifelessly to the floor and his enemy descended upon him.

“Spiderman you seem to have gone soft in your old age.” Doc Ock chuckled above him, his robotic arms shifting to allow his feet to the touch the floor. Any other time Peter might have had a good laugh about the old age comment but as he assessed his situation it didn’t look too good for him.

He couldn’t help but allow a whimper to escape his throat as he tried to push himself to his feet. His body didn’t seem to be cooperating with him and his arms didn’t even move even as he imagined them doing so. He didn’t even think to ask Karen for help, blind terror had taken over. One of his greatest foes had incapacitated him and it didn’t look like he had any way out of this. He could hear distant yelling in the background as others fought on, seemingly oblivious to his predicament. His teammates probably thought he was handling Doc Ock with ease as he’s done many times in the past, and it’d be more embarrassing that Doc Ock beat him so easily this time if he wasn’t sure he was absolutely going to die.

Peter had given thought to death before; he’s of course been close with death many times. Death was in a way a comfort, something he knew. A familiarity, as morbid and depressing as it was. But Peter had never truly considered his own death. Even when Vulture dropped the building on him and he was terrified, the idea of his own death still skirted his thoughts. The fear had been his main thought and then the determination to really show he was Spiderman even without the suit became the second thought. Death had not even waved hello in that moment, rather rude all things considering.

But now as his arms and legs refused to move and the terror was shifting into something greater, he could feel Death’s cold grip tightening on his shoulder and a whisper in his ear.

**Time’s up.**

“What no sarcasm, no witty comeback, no poorly laid trap _Spiderman_?” Doc Ock cackled, slowly approaching the unmoving body of the caped crusader. “I’d say I’m rather disappointed, truly. I thought our final showdown would be much grander than this.”

Doctor Octavius squatted down, and patted the face of Spiderman mockingly, a twisted grin worming its way onto his face.

“I do miss our theatrics, don’t you?” He continued to taunt, one of his mechanical arms petting Peter’s head affectionately, or it would be affectionate if that arm couldn’t drive through the back of Peter’s skull and kill him painfully.

Peter was sure the sheer fear that was pulsating through his veins was the only thing keeping him conscious, and god he wished it would stop. He’d rather pass out to not feel the pain cause he knew Doc Ock wasn’t going to kill him quick. It would not be painless by any means and he was praying that the darkness creeping at the corners of his vision came faster. Blood from his head wound was traveling down the insides of his mask coating his face, hot and sticky. He wanted so desperately to yank his mask off to wipe the blood away.

“Before I kill you, and you know I’m going to kill you right, I do want to see your face as I have to see if my bet against Scorpion will be in my favor.”

Well Peter spoke too soon.

Doc Ock’s hand reached out and slowly pulled off the mask, with the realization that Peter couldn’t talk to Karen now going with it.

Peter’s head was lifted along with the mask and once it was off, his head fell back hitting the concrete softly and the black creeped a little more in as his vision started to tunnel.

Blood trailed down the tip of his nose and dripped onto the floor creating a small puddle his eyes couldn’t seem to look away from.

Silence followed except for Peter’s ragged breathing and the background noise of the ongoing fight between the Avengers and the Sinister Six. Peter was desperately trying to lift his head to see Doc Ock as the man had fallen completely silent at the reveal of Peter’s face, and almost as if Doc Ock could read his mind once again the man gently lifted Peter’s chin to meet his eyes with his.

Peter wishes he could say he saw a mixture of emotions in Doctor Octavius’ eyes but with his vision finally starting to go and Doc Ock’s goggles remaining firmly attached to his face Peter couldn’t say he knew much of anything the mad scientist was thinking of.

And before his vision fluttered out and his thoughts became lost to a dark sea of a mindless abyss, he could’ve sworn he heard Doc Ock say, “You’re just a child.” Then Peter was finally, blissfully out.

His head was pounding and his eyes still firmly shut but he could feel himself slowly coming to again. Peter was disoriented and could faintly hear voices arguing, he slowly peeled open his eyes and was greeted with the sight of a concrete wall. His vision swam and he thought he might hurl for a second as he tried to grasp where he was. He saw the splinters of a crack running up the wall and he felt like that was somehow related to him but nothing was coming to the forefront of his memories. He tried moving his fingers as the voices started to grow louder as his senses slowly came back. He could make out some words but was having a hard time placing the voices.

“You couldn’t have known, none of us could!”

“Did we care though!” The second voice hissed. “None of us bothered to see.”

“This isn’t on us! Who the fuck lets a child play superhero?! This is on Tony Stark and you know it!”

Peter started at the mention of Mr. Stark’s name. He remembered him, his face showing up when he closed his eyes. Why were they talking about Tony? Was Mr. Stark here? Peter was trying really hard to remember but everything just came out fuzzy. He succeeded in moving his hand and was now slowly trying to raise his body off of the floor. He decided this was really important even as his vision swam from the sudden movement. He groaned as he sank back down to the floor and the noise attracted the attention of the voices.

“Hey hey kid, don’t try to move. You’re in rough shape.” One of the voices said, suddenly next to his ear and a firm hand on his shoulder. He tilted his head to look up but he couldn’t make out the blurry figure speaking above him.

“Don’t worry, no one’s gonna hurt you anymore.” The voice seemed to say almost as a grimace and one filled with guilt but Peter couldn’t pin point why.

“Yeah anymore.” The first voice scoffed and the hand on his shoulder abruptly left as the owner of the second voice stood up to talk to the first voice.

“Your fucking comments aren’t gonna help a goddamn thing and won’t change what’s been done.” The man shouted. “We gotta move him and we gotta do it now while they’re distracted.”

“Move him? Move him where exactly?! The fuck do you wanna do with him?”

“We’re gonna take him.”

“Take him? What are you talking about? You wanna kidnap Spiderman with the Avengers in the same building, are you out of your fucking mind!”

This caught Peter’s attention. He froze at the words, kidnap Spiderman. His brain may be a bit jumbled but he knew he was Spiderman and was started to piece together that these men were going to take him away. Away from the Avengers. Away from Tony. That couldn’t happen. He brought his hand to his face to feel for his mask and his blood froze when he realized it wasn’t on his face. He couldn’t fight these guys with the condition he was in, he had to use Karen to contact Mr. Stark, but he could only do that if he had his mask. He shifted slightly again, trying to be quiet to not attract the men’s attention again and looked around the space for his mask. His eyes looked upon the men, still a bit hazy but now fully realizing who they were. Doc Ock and the Vulture continued to argue rather heatedly as Peter’s heart plummeted into his stomach and the memories of what had occurred earlier hit him like a mack truck. Doc Ock was going to kill him… why didn’t he?

Death’s cold grip on his shoulder seemed to disappear at the realization. Doc Ock didn’t kill him. Instead, he was going to kidnap him. Peter didn’t understand why and honestly didn’t have the time to Nancy Drew the mystery. He needed his mask to get the fuck out of there. His eyes scanned the rest of the room, making sure not to meet the eyes of either Vulture or Doc Ock. He was starting to panic as his mask appeared nowhere in sight when finally, he spotted the familiar bug eyes peeking out from under an iron shelf a few feet away from him. The mad doctor must have thrown it after pulling it from his face.

As discreetly as he could Peter started to slowly crawl towards the shelf, well more of like doing a very sad worm. He dragged his body across the floor, heart pounding in his chest. He only had to reach his mask and ask Karen to send out a distress signal to Mr. Stark and he would be safe. He would be away from these villains. He could finally rest. But first he needed his mask. It didn’t feel right to be this vulnerable in front of his greatest enemies without his mask on, without his identity as Spiderman. He had been stripped down and laid bare and the idea of not being able to face these men again as a hero shattered the boy. He wanted to close his eyes and not wake up until this nightmare was over. But the damsel couldn’t wait on the savior, the damsel needed to help himself first.

The mask was now only inches away, he reached out his hand, his fingers about to curl around the mask when suddenly he was violently yanked away as one of the villains grabbed his feet and dragged him backwards. Peter couldn’t help the cry that came out as more pain erupted at the action of being pulled. His back screaming in protest and the crack on the wall seemed to be mocking him in the moment.

Vulture’s face jumped into Peter’s view as he bent down to retrieve the Spiderman mask. “He wanted this.” Vulture tossed the mask to Doc Ock who caught it with his mechanical arm. Peter froze, face firmly looking ahead not daring to look back and see the rage on the villain’s faces. This was it; Peter was going to die now. All he had to do was not get caught and he couldn’t even do that right. Did he even deserve to be saved at this point?

He could hear the mechanical arms walking forward as Doc Ock came forward and stood right in front of Peter. One of the mechanical arms lifted Peter’s chin to bring his eyes up to the doctors.

Surprisingly Doc Ock didn’t look angry, he looked almost sad although Peter couldn’t understand why. Shouldn’t this be his triumphant moment? Spiderman is just a defenseless kid, Doc Ock should be laughing and cheering not looking the way he does in this moment.

“Kid… I told you nobody is gonna hurt you but I can’t let you have this. I can’t let you call for help. I’m sorry.”

He squatted to be more eye level with the despondent hero. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna make this better.” The doctor smiled. “Get some sleep okay. You need rest.”

Peter started to open his mouth to respond, but a light mist blew into his face from a spray bottle the doctor pulled from his pocket. Peter blinked at the mist but continued to blink as his eyes grew heavy and his thoughts trailed off and before he knew it his head slumped to the floor and his eyes fluttered shut once more.

The next time Peter awoke he wasn’t met with a cold floor stained with his blood. Instead, his surroundings felt almost soft. He turned his head nuzzling back into a pillow and let out a content sigh.

There was something off though, the pillow smelled strange. An almost mustiness clung to the fabric and the bed squeaked slightly as he shifted. His bed at home with May and Avengers tower didn’t squeak. But even with this slight realization his thoughts felt sluggish and his head felt heavy as it sank even further down into the pillows. It was hard to think, it was hard to do much of anything as his whole body felt lethargic as well. He was about to fall back down into sleep when some voices penetrated his darkness.

“He’s starting to look better.”

“Yeah, well once you clean all the blood up anyone will look better.”

Silence persisted that statement and Peter wondered what this dream was about, because surely the strangeness of that statement had to come from some character in his dream.

“It’ll take him time to heal even with his enhanced abilities.”

“I suspect it’ll take him a good week before he’s back to a 100%.” Peter recognized that voice as Doc Ock’s and his breath hitched.

Was this actually a dream? More memories came back and the memory of Doc Ock looking sad as he sprayed something in his face lingered cold and clammy on the back of his neck.

“They’re gonna be looking for him.” Vulture said, his voice tinged with anger and a hint of worry at whoever “they” might be.

“They will.” Doc Ock said matter of fact, and his own worry laced his tone.

“We’re going to have to figure out how to deal with that and soon, we can’t be-“ The unfamiliar voice cut off, growing quiet. “I think he’s awake.”

Peter stopped at that, now knowing he was not dreaming. This was real. Before he could process what that meant he felt a cool hand descend upon his head and comb through his hair gently.

“Kid… are you awake?” Doctor Octavius asked and Peter decided to give up the ruse of sleep. He cracked open his bleary eyes and blinked against the harsh overhead fluorescent lights. His vision came into focus to settle upon the doctor’s face now no longer brandishing the googles and Peter could see some relief flit into his brown eyes.

He could now see the other men in the room and his heart sank even further. All of the Sinister Six stood there watching Peter with mixed looks on their faces. He couldn’t quite tell what the men were thinking except for Rhino who had always been an open book. The Rhino looked almost thoughtful, if that was even possible for the brute, as he gazed at Peter.

“How are you feeling?” Doc Ock asked and the strangeness of the entire situation still didn’t take root in Peter’s psyche. His Spidey senses remained quiet, or maybe dulled, he couldn’t quite tell from how lethargic and disoriented he felt but he heard himself whisper, “Tired,” to Doc Ock before he even comprehended he answered the villain.

“Yeah, I understand. Your body has gone through… uh a lot.” Guilt scrunched up Doc Ock’s eyes as he looked away briefly, the other villains shifting uneasily at the answer.

Peter looked more around his surroundings, and the setting seemed almost an abandoned warehouse but not one he had ever seen before.

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice barely a whisper with his throat being incredibly dry.

“You’re in our hideout.” Scorpion answered from the back. “You’ll be safe here.”

“Safe?” Peter echoed, confusion taking over.

“Yes safe,” Doc Ock reiterated as his hand smoothed down Peter’s brown locks. “Safe from everyone.”

“… I don’t understand.” Peter mumbled, growing more scared of the men as reality seemed to be settling in slowly.

“It’s okay.” Doc Ock smiled. “You don’t have to understand right now, just know we’re gonna make sure you’re safe.”

Before Peter could say anything further Electro stepped off to Peter’s backside and was fumbling with something behind him. “It’s alright kid, just get some rest. We’ll talk about it more when you wake up.”

Tiredness washed over Peter like a wave from the sea and his eyes slowly started to close as Doc Ock stood up to rejoin his comrades. The last thing Peter saw before falling back to sleep were the faces of his worst enemies now claiming they wanted to help him.

Then Peter was gone, sailing on a rocky raft across the dark sea and he could’ve swore he saw Death standing on the shore looking rather pleased, knowing it was only time before Peter’s raft drifted ashore into his open arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!
> 
> For the story itself I am basing this off of a mix from the marvel movies, comics, and the spiderman ps4 game. So there is no linear timeline and lots of things will diverge from canon in this story. I literally am going to change things as they will suit the story better, if the complete disregard for canon story events bothers you then most likely you will not enjoy this fanfiction and I wanted to be upfront about that.
> 
> In this first chapter you'll notice that Vulture does not know about Peter and was unaware of how old Peter is even though in Spiderman Homecoming when he drops the building on him he is exactly aware of who Peter is. So things like this I will reference past fights or scenes from canon but the knowledge characters have may be different than the scenes I'm referring to.
> 
> basically if you guys are ever confused about anything like this, feel free to shoot me a question and I'll be more than happy to answer it! Just know the canon is not going to be linear or even accurate a lot in this story and is more of a guide than a rulebook.


	2. Variable

_"Lest that thy love prove likewise... variable."_ -Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

Pipes clamored above, making a racket that could only be akin to a dying animal refusing to let its light snuff out, which was unfortunate for our own little arachnid friend as the sound pulled him from the dark sea and lifted him up into the air, back into the world of living.

Pain was the first distinguishable thing Peter could recognize as he slowly drifted to consciousness. He could tell that he was lying on his side with his feet drawn up towards his chest and the pain shooting down his spine was disconcerting to say the least.

Every part of him felt sore. But not a soreness like from a good swing through the city. No, the kind of soreness that comes from days and days of nonstop movement, heavy and fast, almost animal-like in its effort to keep moving. The kind of sore that comes from when you finally stop and everything stops with you. Any kind of movement is beyond your capabilities and it amazed you that you could even move before it all settled in. You forget what moving is like, what you can do. It slips from your mind like the last good dream you had and now you're only left with the bad ones. The kind of soreness that settles into your bones and sometimes even deeper than that.

The second thing Peter could take in was his surroundings. He squinted through slitted eyes as sunlight washed over him in a hazy glow. He could make out a large room he currently resided in with the headboard of the bed pushed back against a wall. A wide space with no furniture or even random debris could be seen. It was as if the place had been entirely cleaned out, which made it even more suspicious as warehouses always had something lying around. Even abandoned ones.

Well there was still dust so it stayed true to character he supposed.

No one seemed to be around but he couldn't be sure with his senses still dulled. He even thought the pain might be dulled too and he swallowed trying to imagine how much worse it would be without the dullness. He tentatively moved his arm and found he was able to do so even with it pulsating at the sudden movement. He was able to push himself up to a sitting form, his back resting as comfortably as it could against the pillow and he couldn't believe how tired he felt just from doing that simple movement. His injuries were definitely more serious than he thought and he wondered absentmindedly if he would still be unconscious if it wasn't for his advanced healing.

Peter breathed out shakily. He didn't want to think on it too long.

He went to pull his arm to lift the blankets off of him and stopped at a pressure pulling from the opposite end. His eyes drifted to the side of his bed noticing an IV bag shoved onto a makeshift IV pole that literally was a nail jutting out from the wall. The tube traveled down to under the comforter and Peter logically already knew the other end was attached to a needle shoved into his arm but for some reason he needed to see it to believe it. He gently moved the blankets away from his arm and saw the shiny glint of silver peeking out from under the skin on his left hand. 

Peter was no stranger to IV's, having had his fair share during his stint as Spiderman, and needles didn't particularly scare him, although maybe made him a little queasy. He could never look as the needle went in. But something about the pain, his surroundings and the fucking nail being used as an IV pole sent Peter over the edge.

He started blindly grabbing at the needle and yanked it out of his hand, pain blossomed at the sudden violent pull and he bit back a whimper at the additional hurt. He cradled his bleeding hand to his chest and his breathing became erratic.

Panic was now taking over and his before dulled senses were starting to sharpen. The pain in his back shot through like a firework and the sudden onslaught of just feeling again overtook him. He cried out, loud and bothered and immediately regretted it as footsteps hurried into the room.

Martin Li skidded into the room from around a corner further down the open space and started running up to Peter, looking wild eyed himself.

The sight of his enemy, wild eyed and hurried set off Peter's Spidey Sense quicker than he could have ever imagined. Pure adrenaline ran through his veins and the only thoughts filtering through his panic-brained were **get out get out get out**

Peter launched himself off the bed, nearly tripped at the tangle of blankets wrapped around his feet, but he quickly kicked them off and started to run down the corridor... well not run. He was trying to run, really! His heavy breathing and lack of energy would make one think he was but in actuality Peter was more of limping than anything else.

But his limp was quick! That's what mattered, as he hobbled along holding onto the wall for dear life as he tried to escape whatever Martin Li had in store for him. He didn't have time to think, he didn't even have time to comprehend Martin's words as his mind tried to sort through the words he heard, "-Stop-we're-hurt-you-."

His heart slammed in his chest and pounded in his ears at those words. They were going to hurt him if he didn't get away. He managed to get halfway down the corridor before Martin Li bolted in front of him and put his hands up to stop Peter.

Peter running on momentum and sheer adrenaline alone didn't have the tactfulness to stop as Li did and ran right into the man who sounded winded as his breath jumped out of his chest at the sudden impact.

The two toppled over into a lifeless heap with Peter's fall being cushioned by Martin's body. But even with the cushioning the pain from the fall and the run/limp caught up to him like a bolt of lightning shot from Thor's hammer. He went entirely still as his mouth opened and a wordless cry escaped past his lips, sounding even more animalistic than the clattering pipes from before. Hot tears sprung from Peter's eyes and hit Martin Li's chest, dampening his white shirt under his suit jacket.

Martin appeared to be talking to Peter as he tried to move him but every tiny movement sent Peter into another cry, the jostling making pain blossom in front of his eyes until he felt like his vision was red.

He thought he heard more footsteps approaching but it didn't matter as he squeezed his eyes shut and tried to wash out everything. Every single thing. Because it was all too much and his senses were overloading him. The sun burning his eyes even with them shut. The talking voices sending nails into his head. The feeling of Martin Li's shirt stinging his hands like sandpaper. The world was ending he was sure. There was no way the world couldn't be ending with this much sensory stimulating his every nerve, every fiber of who Peter Parker is and will be. It felt like the hand of God came down to smack him around rather than lift him up and he would replace that hand with Death's cold familiar grip any day.

And when a hand came down on his shoulder and a small prick tickled his arm he could've sworn it was just that before his apocalypse finally ceased and he was able to rest once more.

"Relax... you're okay." A voice soothed, sounding far away and almost ethereal as Peter felt himself drifting. He was still on his raft, but the sea was calm and almost serene. He could swear the voice was above him in the clouds. He wanted to look up but the light was too bright. He felt if he looked up he would burst into flames. He would become Icarus crashing to sea, but somehow that didn't seem so bad as he looked down into the dark waves brushing lightly up against his raft. As if welcoming him for a dip. He reached a hand out tentatively to brush his fingers along the cold water but the voice started again, startling him out of his reverie. "The pain should be better now, I promise. Try opening your eyes."

This voice didn't know Peter apparently, because the boy was stubborn. He kept his eyes downcast and the sea seemed to smirk at his strange resolve. It lapped higher now, the biting water hitting his hand and Peter yelped at the sensation. It wasn't cool like he thought it would be, it was frozen. Completely barren, and most importantly empty.

It seemed the voice heard him though because it spoke again, "That's right. You're okay. Just open your eyes."

The sea seemed to disagree, getting more treacherous as the waves increased. The once tranquility now gone and almost taunting Peter asking, "what do you want? I thought you wanted nothingness."

Peter didn't know what he wanted and that seemed to anger the sea more as it shook his raft, he gripped the flag pole trying to keep his balance. And he heard the voice assure him one more time to open his eyes, to look up .

He wasn't sure what he wanted but the anger of the ocean scared him more than the nothingness enticed him. So he braced himself before he finally looked up to the sky and was lifted to consciousness once more.

Peter's eyes opened slowly, blinking the bleariness and tiredness that had settled over him and his body like a weighted blanket. There was a hand on his forehead helping to block the glaring light from overhead and when the owner of said arm went to remove it Peter whimpered at the onslaught of light and the warmth now missing from his head.

The hand returned immediately and the owner soothed him once more, "You're okay. It's all okay."

Peter turned his head slightly and instantly recognized his enemy, Doctor Octopus. The man was for once without his robotic arms and villain... uniform? Is that proper term? Peter wasn't sure actually what he would call what Doctor Octavius wore when he acted as Doctor Octopus but whatever the technical term may be the villain seemed to decide it was unnecessary to wear at the moment.

Unlike the last couple of times Peter has woken in the lair of the beast, he was more aware this time. His brain still felt foggy but he had more of his senses return to him upon awaking. 

He was back in the bed he woke up in earlier, and he tilted his head to see the IV bag set up once again on that stupid fucking nail. He didn't know why the nail bothered him so much but maybe it reminded him of how he came to be here in the first place.

This time he remembered everything that happened, the fight with Doc Ock, having his mask taken away, the blinding pain, the sensory overload. All of it. It sat at the forefront of his mind and tasted bitter in the back of his throat.

He thought he felt something akin to anger bubbling up within him, but the exhaustion of all the transpired events weighed him down and made it impossible to feel anything but weariness and an incredible urge to sleep for weeks.

Wrestling with himself he turned back to his enemy who still had his hand in Peter's hair, and his eyes shot up to look disgusted at the doctor. Doc Ock looked confused for a second before noticing his hand and removing it slowly from the boy's head, seemingly getting the message.

He sat further back in his chair, looking childlike, as he twisted his hands in his lap, slightly hunched over. Peter scanned the room, seeing none of the other members of the Sinister Six.

A lightbulb went off in his head. If he was truly alone with Doc Ock he had a chance. The only one he might have. The man was basically powerless without his robotic arms and they seemed to be nowhere in sight. Peter wasn't even sure why the doctor took them off unless he truly didn't regard Peter as a threat.

And that notion that Peter was too feeble to even overtake Doc Ock without his arms turned the bubbling rage simmering in his stomach to a boil. His expression twisted and darkened as he moved to sit up in his bed, doing it more easily than the last time he tried. Octavius made a move to help Peter readjust but Peter weakly swatted his hand away, which only added to the anger twisting in his veins. He couldn't even properly smack away the doctor's hand. How pathetic.

Octavius let Peter sit up even as sweat started to bead on the nape of Peter's neck and pain clearly rippled over his features, but within 30 seconds Peter was able to adjust himself to a sitting position and moved his arms out from under the blanket to place on his lap. The anger hadn't left his expression but only intensified as he stared at the sheepish doctor.

He knew logically he should feel fear, fear at his predicament, and fear at whatever outcome awaited him, but it felt good to hold on to something that made him feel powerful. That made him feel like Spiderman again. Anger was the only thing keeping the logical fear out and for once Peter didn't want to be logical. Nothing about this was logical.

"Where am I?" He asked lowly, trying to keep the hiss from his tone. Even though rage was plain for all to see on his face he couldn't let it seep into his voice. He didn't know how Octavius would respond to anger and he didn't want to push the villain. He still understood that whatever this situation was it was very precarious and he didn't want to tip the scales out of his favor of surviving.

"Our hideout, we brought you here to keep you safe." Doc Ock responded, the sheepish attitude from moments earlier now gone as he held himself up straighter, staring into Peter's eyes with a newfound confidence.

"Safer?" Peter's anger faded for a second as confusion took place. "Why would you want me to be safe?! Is this some kind of fucking twisted experiment... I don't understand what's happening!" Peter shouted, surprising himself with how loud he got. He voice carried down the warehouse echoing off the concrete walls. The harshness of his tone made him wince as he heard his own voice shouting back at him.

Doc Ock eyed him, not looking surprised at the outburst as he answered evenly, "I can assure you this isn't an experiment. We really brought you here to keep you safe. That's the truth. Spide-... kid you may only know me one way but have you ever known me to be a liar? I've never once lied to you and I never will." 

Peter did notice how Octavius stopped himself from saying Spiderman as if acknowledging that's how he's known Peter for the better part of 2 years would somehow undo whatever Doc Ock is trying to weave together in this haphazard attempt. 

But the man was right about one thing. Peter was sure the doctor was not a liar. Usually crazy maniacal bad guys aren't good liars and Doctor Octopus was no exception. They didn't have to lie because the lie for them was any time they weren't acting as the villain. That was the truth for them and even through his calm demeanor Peter could tell that this was still the true Doctor Octopus and he wasn't lying to him.

But rather than acknowledge possibly the only good thing Doc Ock possessed, Peter pushed on not wanting to give the man the satisfaction of agreeing with him.

"Why are you trying to keep me safe? I don't understand your game! You were going to kill me, I know you were going to do it! I thought I was gonna die..." Peter's voice started to raise but he found his voice faltering as he said out loud the thing he didn't want to address. That he almost died... that by all means he should've died. That he would've died with Tony in the next room, not even the slightest bit aware until they would've found Peter's body. That all of the Avengers would have had to stumble upon his corpse, expecting to see a webbed up Doc Ock and a goofy grin plastering Peter's face as he celebrated with his family at their victory, and instead coming face to face with his lifeless bloody corpse lying like a rag doll, looking impossibly small on the floor of a crumbling construction site.

The vision of them seeing him dead and the wonder in how they would feel in that moment fell hot against his face as salty tears washed away the grime and grit that stuck to his skin from sleeping on a musty bed in the dusty warehouse of his worst enemies. The ridiculousness of that thought bubbled out of his throat into a laugh and he found he couldn't stop laughing as tears continued to pour from his eyes. 

The laughter erupted around him in echoes and it felt like the laughter of the truly broken but Peter couldn't stop even as Doc Ock watched him with morbid curiosity at the unexpected reaction. Hearing himself laugh so openly and morose made the crying worse as sobs started to intersperse between the laughter and soon enough the sobbing took over completely.

He held his face in his hands and was trying, **trying** to compose himself but he couldn't and the thought of trying to compose himself made it worse somehow and the sobs deepened. 

He at least had the good sense to hide his face from Octavius as sobs shook his body uncontrollably and brought with it the pain from his injuries. A hand fell upon his back causing Peter to jump slightly but it started to rub small circles in a calming effort. The doctor said nothing as he did so and Peter surprised himself as he let him, he wanted the pain to go away and he knew the sooner he calmed down the better he would feel.

He continued to cry for a good time but slowly felt his breathing becoming lighter and the sobs ebbing away as he came back to himself. The doctor never stopped his ministrations and only relented once he felt Peter was no longer in hysterics. He sat back in his chair and waited for Peter to wipe his eyes and lift his head to face his enemy.

Shame spiked hot and angry in his cheeks at having shown Doctor Octopus something so vulnerable but the weariness from before, the ebbing anger, and the panic dying down left him drained. Completely drained and shame had very little room left to be where exhaustion had taken root.

The doctor said nothing for a moment, possibly hoping for Peter to speak, but the boy couldn't even think of words to say if his life depended on it. He knew sleep was going to drag him away soon and he felt slight panic at the idea of sleeping again. He didn't want to sleep so bare in front of the villains. They obviously had done no harm to him yet but Peter didn't know their intentions or how long this pseudo desire to care for him would last.

Sensing Peter was not up for speaking the doctor spoke instead, "I understand how you must feel... I am not going to mince words with you. I planned on killing you." Peter flinched at that even though he already said it before himself. "But when I took off your mask and saw you... I-" The Doctor trailed off, looking crazed as if reliving that moment himself.

His brown eyes widened and a slight tremble came to his hand. "I-I never knew that you were just a child." The statement came as a whisper as though the reality was horrifying to the doctor. Although Peter couldn't understand why. Why would his age matter? Why would that stop Doc Ock's hand from striking him down. He'd been wanting to do it for years, Peter knew. 

When he first started fighting the Doctor, Octavius seemed almost amused by their meetings like he was playing a rather fun game and his attacks had never been serious. Back then Peter was still young into his Spiderman career and took the attacks as real threats since he hadn't experienced an enemy toying with him to that point. He thought the doctor was really trying to hurt him but now looking back with more experience under his belt, he knew the villain had simply been having fun with their fights and never actually aimed any attacks to be lethal. Sure Peter got hurt but he was never in danger of dying back then.

But as the years went by and Peter continued to thwart Doc Ock's plans his attacks became more precise, more angry and they definitely meant to kill. Spiderman was no longer a fun nuisance to toy with, Spiderman had become an obstacle and Octavius couldn't afford obstacles if he wanted to achieve greatness. And as Peter grew more familiar with the villain and what riled him up, he started toying with the villain himself, purposefully trying to make him angry. His jabs were pointed and sometimes cruel. He targeted facets of the doctor's life that maybe he should've left alone but the high of the fight and the look of pure anger on the doctor's face amused Peter so he never relented. He always _pushed_ and never once did he regret it.

So when he fought Doc Ock this time it never once crossed his mind that the mad scientist would care that Peter was technically a child. Why would that matter? The man wanted him dead and that was something Peter thought he understood about the doctor... but clearly he didn't know the doctor as well as he thought he did, as he looked at the shaken man almost begging for Peter's forgiveness with his eyes, although his mouth was saying a different story.

"I never knew... I never _thought_ that you would be- that **Tony Stark** would have a child superhero under his wing. It never occurred to me." The doctor seemed to be almost mumbling to himself more so than speaking directly to Peter but the boy's eyes grew wide at what he was saying. The doctor truly cared that he wasn't an adult... it was Peter's age and perhaps perceived innocence in the notion that made the doctor decide to spare his life.

A concept that he had never experienced before as Spiderman. Not even the Avengers held him back from performing his Spiderman duties because of his age. It had never occurred to him that being a 16 year old would matter to anyone else but him and he wasn't quite sure what to do with that information.

"I realized then and there what our years of battles were about," Doc Ock continued on and a look of determination settled on his features as he stared directly at Peter causing his Spidey Sense to flare up slightly. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, but his Spidey Sense wasn't warning him of any physical danger rather of something else coming.

"They weren't about you and I, they were about _Tony Stark_ and his arrogance." The doctor spat. "His sheer arrogance to put a _child_ in harms way for his own inflated ego."

Peter eyes widened further, completely startled. "Th-that's not what-" But Octavius cut him off as he continued, "He gave you the suit, made you an Avenger for his own pride of showing off the child he converted into a good little soldier. A child that wouldn't know better than to follow the word of his idol, his mentor, his... **hero** " He spat out the last word like it was venom in his mouth.

Fresh tears pooled at the corners of Peter's eyes, "S-stop." He didn't know why he was crying, he didn't know why those words were stirring emotions in his gut but they made him feel dizzy with grief.

"You were put in harms way for whatever vision Tony had. And he never considered what could happen to you. He never thought that this line of work is not meant for children, because that's who Tony Stark is." The Doctor raved, standing up abruptly and causing Peter to jump the tears now falling on his cheeks.

"And I won't be a part of it!!" Octavius screamed. "I won't play into Stark's hands, I will not kill a **child**!" He snarled and looked back at Peter quivering on his bed and as quickly as the Doc's sudden anger flared up it dissipated like a dying firework as he sat on the end of Peter's bed. Determination still sitting rigged on his tired face.

"I will not let Tony Stark send a child to his death, I won't allow it." He said solemnly, pausing as he chose his next words. "That's why we took you kid, not just me. All of us agreed. We would never harm a child and we won't allow Stark to continue to have his way either."

Peter's breathing was ragged and the tears seemed frozen on his face as he stared wide-eyed at Doctor Octopus. His heart was pounding so loud he was sure it was echoing along the walls, letting everyone know how unsettled he was.

"We are going to keep you safe from Stark and the Avengers. They will never put you in that position again." The Doctor said gravely, staring at Peter with such an intensity that Peter had never seen from the villain before.

It wasn't intensity that came from battle or from his maniacal beliefs... it was intensity that came with true resolve. One that his mind would not be changed on.

Peter squeezed his eyes shut and more tears cascaded down his face. He felt his lower lip tremble as he asked, "What does this mean?" He couldn't look the doctor in the eyes as he gave his answer. "It means you will stay with us."

He kept his eyes screwed shut as he gripped his blanket trembling. He felt like a small child trying to hide from the monster under his bed by hiding under the covers, but the only issue with that was the act of sitting on the bed. By sitting on the bed you were now in the monsters territory where the monster is never far and always watching. Peter was in the monster's territory and knew there was no hiding from it.

He peeled his eyes open, bloodshot, rimmed red and said, "They'll find me, and they'll save me." His eyes narrowed and he tried to set his own resolve but felt it quickly crumbling away under the Doctor's gaze.

The Doctor looked at him with almost a half apology behind his eyes before they set and he said with a finality that sent Peter into a rage, "No, kid. They wont." And it was the one variable that hung in the air between them, the variable of whether or not the Avengers would show up to save Peter Parker. And Peter was unsure of what way that variable would swing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, really hoped you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> We will get into other relationships with the other baddies in future chapters, but for now I felt it was important to start setting up Doc Ock's and Peter's relationship since it will be a vital one to this story.
> 
> Just wanted to toss out a Happy Holidays as well! Hope you and your loved ones are safe and doing well. :)


	3. Counterfeit of Death

_"Sleep, delicious and profound, the very counterfeit of death."_ -Homer, The Odyssey 

Peter had never slept so much in his life. He was falling asleep quickly and waking up intermittently at random hours. His entire schedule was thrown off and he wasn't sure how to get back on track. He awoke to the smell of food sitting on a cardboard box next to his bed. He figured the cardboard box was supposed to be a nightstand of sorts but it ended up looking even more sad and depressing than Peter felt being the prisoner of the Sinister Six. The food itself was less sad than the cardboard box, just being a bowl of Campbell's chicken noodle soup and some saltines, although it looked rather bleak in the plastic bowl with the plastic spoon sticking out. But Peter was so hungry that he didn't care how it looked.

The Rhino was sitting besides his bed, nodding off slightly himself, till he noticed Peter awake and sat up in his chair. He didn't say a word as he helped Peter into sitting position, his hands about as large as Peter's head and he always slightly panicked every time the Rhino reached for him, assuming the man meant to crush his head, but the Rhino was always gentle surprisingly. His hands never felt heavy on Peter's body as he helped him sit up. The Rhino was responsible for helping Peter around most of the times, especially when he needed to go to the bathroom.

Out of all of the Sinister Six the Rhino was probably the only member stronger than Peter, so he realized they purposefully assigned the Rhino the task of helping Peter around in case the boy ever tried to overpower him, as it would become a losing battle real quick. But despite Peter's desperate need to escape his captors the constant exhaustion that followed him put any thought of escape to the furthest recesses of his mind. He could barely keep his eyes open let alone overpower the Rhino and escape through the maze of the warehouse. It was simply not an option at the moment so he never lingered on the idea as it was only making his anxiety and stress worse. So he simply let the Rhino help him sit up in bed, he let him carry him to the bathroom and help him walk if he needed it. He never once said thank you to him, Peter would make sure that never happened because he shouldn't be thanking people that inflicted pain and suffering on him for years and were the ones responsible for his current injuries, and he had to catch himself a few times from saying it out of habit. May didn't raise him without manners and he was really regretting how polite he was now.

The Rhino adjusted Peter's pillow and then handed him the chicken soup. Peter wordlessly accepted the bowl and ate quietly in his bed with the Rhino returning to his chair, head tilted down in contemplation. He watched the large man as he sat in the comically too small chair for his body and realized he never really knew how quiet the Rhino was naturally. He was a man of few words in general, every time he and Peter fought he only said a handful of words most of them being, "I'll crush you," which really got old after a while. Like did he not know any other words for crush? Squish is a good one, ya know cause I'm a spider, get it?... Peter told him once in battle and the man simply roared and charged him for the suggestion. Pretty rude... it was just a suggestion.

But the Rhino now said very few words to Peter, and with none of his usual vigor. He seemed almost thoughtful which is an adjective Peter would have never used to describe him before. He wasn't sure if it was simply the Rhino didn't know what to say to Peter or he didn't want to get cozy with the boy. He couldn't quite peg what the man thought, but Peter only gave these ideas some thought when he was awake... which wasn't very often these days.

"Is it okay?" Peter startled at the question and looked up from his soup to the Rhino. The man was looking at him quizzically, an eyebrow raised for posterity.

"Uh y-yeah. It's fine," Peter stuttered. Rhino's eyebrow raised further. "... you've barely touched it."

Peter looked down to his soup and realized the Rhino was right. He had been dazed and lost in his thoughts, and had forgotten to eat the soup that was starting to cool down.

"Oh, sorry... I'm just tired." Peter mumbled his half-apology, eating a spoonful of soup to placate the brute. The soup was disappointing as canned soup always tends to be but he continued to eat it without complaint. 

"Mmh." The Rhino grunted. "It's from your medicine."

"What?" Peter asked, lowering his spoon back into his soup to look at the man more pointedly. The Rhino himself looked tired, his eyes more pinched than normal. His hair was starting to fall into his eyes, no doubt due for a good haircut, and he seemed rather tense with the way he sat in the chair.

"Your medicine bag... it's a painkiller but it makes you tired too." He pointed a meaty finger to the bag and Peter turned towards it as if somehow it would look different just with the new revelation but it still looked the same, sitting on that stupid fucking nail. It didn't look any more menacing than it did the first time he saw it but Peter did feel slightly apprehensive at this information. He figured the IV was a painkiller of sorts but he thought his tiredness was due to his healing abilities. He always slept more when he needed to heal, it helped to speed up the process. He didn't even consider the medicine could be contributing to his current exhaustion.

"Ohh..." He mumbled, unsure what to say to the Rhino now. It wasn't like he could ask to be taken off the painkillers, he didn't think they would even listen to him if he asked. He wasn't sure if he wanted off them quite yet either. His body still felt sore and it was hard to walk with the pain in his back but he was already starting to feel better and could move more easily than he could a few days ago. He was able to shower the other day and that in a strange way felt like a triumphant moment for him.

He finished his soup and handed the bowl back to the Rhino. The man accepted it wordlessly and walked away leaving Peter alone for the moment. Peter didn't try anything though as he knew the man would be back in mere seconds. He had already tried an escape attempt during this time and it ended very quickly and very embarrassingly. He had literally gotten one foot on the floor when his watcher at the time, Scorpion, came back into the room and just looked at him. Peter had slowly put his foot back under the covers and simply pouted. There wasn't much else to do in that moment but mope and Scorpion had given him the shittiest grin while snorting. Peter had never had his ears turn so red before.

Rhino came back a moment later. "Do you want to lay back down?" Peter just nodded, seeing as his eyes were drooping once more and there was nothing else for him to do. Rhino hovered over Peter, helping him lay back down in bed. Peter didn't honestly need the help but his objections had fallen on deaf ears every time he told Rhino, so after a few days of protests he just let the man do what he wanted. It was easier than trying to push the stronger man off of him, especially in his weakened state. It only exacerbated his injuries and his patience.

Peter snuggled back into his blankets, closing his eyes and trying to even out his breathing. He almost forgot the Rhino still stood next to him until he heard the man whisper, "Sleep well little spider," with the Rhino's retreating footsteps following shortly after.

Well that was new. The man hadn't even referred to him by any name up till this point. But Peter was too tired to try and ponder the nickname as he sank further into the pillows and his breathing evened out into peaceful slumber.

Peter was watching from a corner. He could see Doc Ock and Vulture arguing while his unconscious body lay a few feet away. He approached slowly not wanting to draw the attention of the villains, although he figured out they couldn't see him quickly as Vulture looked directly at him and didn't even react, just turned back to Octavius and speaking in harsh, hushed tones. He came around to the front of his body and froze at the sight. 

Blood coated the entire left side of his face, a nasty gash appearing right on the front of his hairline. Dirt was stuck to every open inch of skin and made the blood run black as it continued to trickle down his face off of his chin. He had lacerations dancing up his torso from Doc Ock's mechanical arms slicing him earlier in the battle. A particular cut on his right thigh ran deep and looked angry even in contrast to his red and blue suit. Despite his appearance he looked almost peaceful as his mouth hung open slightly and his eyes were closed without any tension on his features. He seemed to be sleeping if it wasn't for the pallor that had seeped onto his complexion. He looked dead and cold. He looked the way Peter had imagined he would look when he broke down in front of Doc Ock. It was true... he looked just like a child. He didn't look like a superhero, like an Avenger... he looked like someone who got in over his head. Someone who failed.

Tears fell openly from Peter's eyes as he stared at his unconscious form and he only lifted his eyes from his own face when he heard Vulture say, "If we're going to take him it has to be now while the Avengers are distracted. They still don't know you've defeated him." Vulture turned towards Peter's body, completely unmoving except for the slow rise and fall of his chest. "It won't stay that way for long, they're in communication with each other. They'll realize he's not responding soon."

Doc Ock frowned at that, still holding Peter's mask in his hand. "There's no doubt there's a tracker in that suit. I can disable the communication between it for now until we find him some clothes." Vulture continued on, fumbling with some mechanical device on his wrist. No doubt some kind of signal blocker. He looked up to the doctor who stood glaring at the mask in his hands, the bug eyes staring blankly back at him. Peter wondered what he was thinking in that moment until Vulture snapped both of them out of their thoughts, "Are we doing this or what!" He hissed, "We need to make a decision, _now_."

There was no hesitation in his eyes as Octavius' fist closed around Spiderman's mask and shoved it into his pocket. "Yes, I'll get him to the base, go back to the battle and continue to distract the Avengers. Create a diversion and get the rest of the team out, make sure you are not followed." He said darkly. "We can't risk being followed. If Stark gets even a whiff of what we're doing this is over."

Doc Ock turned to Peter and an almost sorrow crept onto his face looking at the prone figure. "We need to get him away fast."

Vulture nodded, and ran back into the fray of battle while Doc Ock carefully approached Spiderman and lifted him with his mechanical arm. He hurried out the back door and the only part of Peter left behind was the still wet blood running towards the drain in the floor.

Peter jolted up in bed, his breathing erratic and frantic. Cold sweat dampened his forehead and his hands shook as he went to wipe it away. His heart pounded so loud he felt as if his bed was shaking. His Spidey Sense was sending his senses into disarray as it tried to figure out where the danger was coming from. He picked up the sounds of the creaking warehouse and the rattling pipes that pounded inside of his skull. His eyes picked up every movement of the shadows as they danced across the floor from the city lights just beyond the windows. His fingers felt every fiber of the blanket he clung to- wait... city lights?

Peter's panic started to subside as he focused on the window, he had never seen lights outside before... come to think of it there had always been cardboard taped over the windows with only some sunlight filtering in through the cracks. He hadn't honestly given thought to the windows before. He just thought the cardboard taped over was always there... not that it had been put there by the Sinister Six. 

But he noticed that one of the pieces had fallen off, sitting in a pile of growing dust on the floor and Peter could see lights just beyond the window. His heart rate picked up again... was he in New York still?

He would've thought that he'd been moved outside of the city... outside of New York all together. He never thought they would stay... why would they? The Avengers were here! Why would they risk it? His palms were clammy and his breathing harsh and all he knew in that moment was that he had to look outside that window. He had to _know_ if he was close to home. Close to freedom.

He took out the IV, not even flinching as blood flowed freely from the wound and removed the blankets to place his feet on the cold concrete floor. He stumbled to the window, having no wall to support his rather pathetic effort of walking. But he was determined and his only focus being on making it to the that goddamn window. With what felt like an eternity he finally approached, heart racing, cold sweat running down the nape of his neck and peered outside.

And that's when his heart stopped, all of the breath left his chest and a sob took root. 

A proud building stood tall and unblinking, bathing Peter in the most beautiful light had he ever seen as a giant A seemed to be almost smiling at him.

Avengers Tower was right outside of the window, no more than a mile away. Peter was so close to them. His hand grasped desperately at the window, his mind not even realizing what his body was doing. He just stared and sobbed. His family was right there... and they didn't even know he was so close to them. Did they even know he was still in New York?

"Please come back to bed."

He went still. Fear shooting through his system and he felt rooted to the spot. He felt his breath catch and instant regret seized him. 

Peter turned around slowly seeing Doc Ock, with his robotic arms secured on his back, standing a few feet away from him and this time he didn't look sad like he normally did when he looked at Peter, instead he looked angry. He looked like the man Peter has known for the past 2 years. This was the true Doctor Octopus. The one Peter knew as well as he knew himself.

His Spidey Sense tickled at the back of his neck and he felt unprepared for the fall out that would happen because of his snooping. But despite his spidey sense warning, no _pleading_ with him to just do as Octavius wanted rather than fight back, Peter did just the latter.

"We-we're in New York... w-we're in Manhattan," He said as shakily as he was standing, anger and pain radiating through his limbs. "We never left."

Octavius' frown deepened along with his voice, "Get back into bed."

"I thought- I thought we would've left b-but we never did, did we??" He snarled through gritted teeth, his hands clenching into fists. The doctors expression didn't change but a dangerous glint entered his eyes, one that Peter has seen seldom times in his life and he knew it to be a warning. 

He ignored it.

"I never said we did." Doc Ock answered, his voice slow and seething. Peter was unsure if the doctor was truly angry with Peter or with himself for not thinking Peter would discover their whereabouts. He figured it was a mixture of both.

"Are you trying to use me as some kind-some kind of bargaining chip? Is that why we're so close to Avengers Tower?" Peter speculated, voice raising as his shaking intensified. 

"I will not explain myself again." The doctor said tightly, voice dripping with poison. "Nor will I repeat myself again so this is your last warning. Get. Back. Into. Bed." He punctuated the last words with a hiss as his robotic arms starting to move slowly towards Peter as if they were slithering snakes waiting for the right moment to strike.

Peter should've listened. Really he knew he should've but he was so tired. So tired of being unable to fight back, of being a _model prisoner_ for these psychopaths. For these men that had convinced themselves they were now the heroes and Peter was the one needing saving. As if for years they didn't steal, cheat, hurt, and **murder** innocent people as Peter stopped them. As Peter risked everything to keep these men from tearing apart his city. As if Doc Ock didn't try and kill him mere days ago and only stayed his hand because of Peter's age.

Fuck him.

Peter took a step forward, feeling his body and mind preparing for a fight, but the moment he moved his leg the shakiness he was feeling earlier came to a head and his legs gave out. He crumbled to the floor, shocked as the adrenaline died down as quickly as it came. 

Doc Ock seemed frozen as well as his body had tensed preparing for Peter to swing at him, but within a moment the anger vanished from his expression as he ran forward to Peter.

"Are you okay?" He asked, bending down with arms extended looking for wounds.

Peter saw red as the doctor tried to help. He started to pound at the man's chest with his shaking arms and screamed, "FUCK YOU! YOU'RE FUCKING TWISTED!" Shock flitted onto Octavius' expression as Peter continued to hit the man and he knew the hits were doing no damage, they probably felt like a child's throwing a temper tantrum. His limbs were shaking and he knew if he didn't stop they would give out completely but Peter couldn't stop. His rage was all consuming and it was forcing his screams and his punches to continue. 

"You stole me!! YOU STOLE ME FROM MY FAMILY!! You're demented, you're so fucking sick!" He continued to cry, hot angry tears obscuring his vision but he didn't need his vision to still punch, to still hurt. He wanted Doctor Octavius to hurt as much as he did and he knew the doctor would never feel the same hurt emotionally so he was trying to inflict it physically. To make him suffer the way Peter suffered. The way Peter suffered every day as their prisoner. As he suffered looking at the slack face of his unconscious form as these men, no these **monsters** decided they knew what was best for him, even though the blood covering his face was by their own hands. That every single spike of pain he felt was their fault and they didn't even care. They didn't even care that they stole Peter's life, because to them he was just a child that needed protecting. Not a person with a life and a home.

He kept wildly pounding at the doctor, making no move to stop until he saw red. But not red from anger.

He saw red on the doctor's button up shirt and his addled mind came to recognize it as blood. His fists froze and hovered over the wet blood on the doctor's chest. His tears reached the end of his chin and fell silently to the warehouse floor.

"Y-you're bleeding." He said before he even knew the words came out of his mouth.

"I'm not." Octavius said. Peter looked up to meet the doctors gaze and noticed the reflecting light of Avengers Tower shining in his eyes. At the sight of that something collapsed in Peter and he lowered his fists, the frightening energy carrying him on earlier completely gone from his body and his mind. "You are." The doctor raised Peter's left hand and showed him the blood trailing down his wrist. Peter watched as it caught in the crook of his elbow and dripped onto the floor.

"Oh," was all he said. He forgot he had ripped the IV out earlier, he didn't even feel the blood as it ran freely down his arm. "Oh."

The doctor let go of Peter's arm as he looked at him stoically. "Are we done?"

There was no condescension in his tone, no arrogance. It was a simple question. Was Peter done trying to hurt? And the truth was Peter didn't know, but for the moment he could feel the weariness in his bones, the shaking of his body, and he knew that he couldn't continue on even if he wanted to. Still he didn't answer the doctor, just lowered his gaze and that seemed to be enough of an answer for Doc Ock.

"Okay," He sighed, "Let's get you cleaned up." Mechanical arms wrapped around Peter's torso, helping him to his feet. He would've been surprised at the sensation but he was too tired to even give it much notice. He was unsteady on his feet but with the help of the arms he was able to walk. He thought the doctor was leading him back to bed but was surprised when he took him into a back room instead.

Peter had never been anywhere in the warehouse except his "bedroom", if you could even call it that, and the bathroom. He had been curious sure about the other doors but the past few days had been such a blur in his drugged state that the curiosity never lasted long.

The back room was just an office with an old worn out sofa shoved against the wall facing the desk. It was torn and stuffing was popping from the seams. It looked exactly like a couch you would expect to see in an abandoned warehouse.

The doctor helped Peter sit on it before he went over to the drawer and pulled out a medical kit. Peter only watched with some interest as he could feel himself slowly starting to sink. His body was going to collapse soon and he really wanted to be in his bed when it happened.

With the outpouring of his emotions he felt empty, like there wasn't a single thought left in his head except that he was tired. His eyes felt tight against his skin and his hands were shaking profusely in his lap.

"Here." Octavius said, crouched down in front of Peter with some antiseptic wipes. He cleaned out Peter's IV wound, and he didn't even feel the familiar sting that comes from the wipe. The doctor didn't wrap it in bandages though which Peter suspected was because he planned to reinsert the IV. He simply pressed a piece of gauze to it to stop the bleeding. He grabbed a water bottle from his desk and splashed a washcloth.

The doctor didn't say a word as he wiped down Peter's face and the cool sensation of the cloth felt nice against Peter's tight and hot skin. Normally he would've protested as the idea of Doctor Octopus cleaning his face repulsed him, he wouldn't even let May do that for him, but darkness was creeping at the corners of his vision and he didn't have the fight in him.

He didn't have the will to fight anything at that moment. He just wanted to curl up into bed and sleep. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to wake up because waking meant returning to this nightmare. He wanted to be weightless for a long time until he felt ready to fight again.

The doctor finished wiping his face, and smiled slightly, before it fell again as quickly as it came.

"I know you are not happy with this situation but I need you to somehow come to terms with it. Because it will not change." He spoke gravely and the seriousness of his tone caught Peter's attention. He fought off the sleep threatening to consume him and focused on Octavius. Some of the earlier anger was accentuating the lines of the doctor's face but it was nowhere near to the same level as before. But it was still there, he had not forgotten that Peter snooped and disobeyed him.

"I told you that no one here will hurt you and I stand by that but I will not tolerate disobedience." His eyes narrowed, and the light from the lamp on the desk casted shadows over the doctor, adding a heaviness to his words. "There will be consequences if you disobey. You will get certain privileges if you behave." He grabbed Peter's chin a little too harshly, pulling him closer. Peter winced at the pressure but didn't back down from the doctor's rigid gaze. "But when I tell you to do something, you do it." He spoke slow, full of purpose and full of warning. "I will not repeat myself."

The question of, "Do I make myself clear?" hung in the air between them and it couldn't have been clearer in that moment that Peter was really and truly a prisoner. This was not a rescue. This was a kidnapping and it was stupid of him to ever think these men ever gave an actual shit about Peter. He was an object that they would discard the moment he became too much to handle. They may have convinced themselves they cared for him but Peter saw the truth. 

They cared about the idea of him and nothing more.

The thought of that should've put the fight back in him but it didn't. It couldn't. He could no longer keep the darkness at bay. It was coming for him quick and he was able to mumble out a, "got it," before his eyes closed and he fell right into the arms of his enemy, rather literally. 

He was back on his raft and didn't have the energy to even gaze down at the water. He drifted, and right now he preferred it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading everyone! Hope you enjoyed ^^


	4. Few Better

_"Few sons are like their fathers-most are worse, few better."_ \- Homer, The Odyssey

"It's been three days now since the disappearance of Spiderman. He was last seen responding to a scene with his fellow Avengers, led by Ironman, to a construction site where a group of men known as the Sinister Six threatened the workers. Details about why the Sinister Six were at the construction site to begin with are still unknown, but after a few hours of battling with the Avengers they dispersed and were unable to be apprehended by the Avengers. No one knows for sure where Spiderman has gone since the battle, all we know, New York, is that Queens feels less safe without him. Please take care of yourselves and your loved ones during these trying times and if you, or anybody you know, have information about Spiderman or the Sinister Six please call our toll number below-"

The tv went dark as Tony lowered the remote onto the couch cushion. He didn't need to hear anymore.

Really he didn't know why he bothered to watch the news, F.R.I.D.A.Y updated him constantly about all news channels reporting on the fight and the disappearance of Spiderman. There was no logical reason to watch the news and he knew he was wasting time in finding Peter by doing so, but from time to time late in the night he found himself sitting in front of the tv, blue light washing him in a ghastly glow as he stared at photos of Spiderman posing for the cameras. His favorite photo came from CNN where Spiderman was standing next to a hot dog vendor giving a cheesy peace sign as the owner of the stand grinned wide and proud to be cooking for Spiderman. Tony even noticed that the hot dog in Peter's other hand was dripping relish onto his suit. A taste Tony couldn't quite wrap his head around... who the hell actually liked relish on their hot dog? Tony didn't even know Peter liked relish until he saw that photo and he vowed to turn the boy on to better hot dog toppings soon.

... well, he would have to find him first.

As Channel 5 News said it had been three days since the disappearance of Spiderman and the general public had no idea what happened to him. Some assumed he had run off, and the thought of those people blaming Peter for anything made his blood boil. J. Jonah Jameson was a big proponent of this rumor and helped spread it far and wide across his platform, publishing ludicrous stories in the Daily Bugle and ranting on his podcast.

_"I've been telling the folks of this fine city for years that Spiderman is not their hero. He is a menace, and apparently a coward too! He abandoned this city the moment things got hairy while the rest of the Avengers stayed. Now while I have many thoughts on the Avengers as well, that is a discussion for another time and another place. You have every right to be scared New York! There are villains out on the streets and Spiderman has tucked his tail and ran, but now's not the time to let fear take root! Believe in our city's finest as I have, they are New York's true hero's. Not some masked crusader who won't even show his face! Some coward that won't protect anything but his own identity. Spiderman is not New York's hero. He is the villain."_

Tony had thrown his coffee mug across the room, and it smashed ceremoniously on the wall of his lab. Drenching some of his tech in the cold remnants of his drink, but he didn't care. He told F.R.I.D.A.Y to turn off Jameson's podcast before he flew over to the Daily Bugle and throttled the man personally.

Other folks speculated that Spiderman had turned to the dark side and joined the Sinister Six which just made Tony and the rest of the Avengers laugh. It was ridiculous, but as rumors go through a town such as New York and paranoia takes root the rumor didn't seem so implausible to certain citizens. Seemingly overnight, artwork of Spiderman around the city started to be tampered with. The 7 line going right through the heart of Queens had a subway car graffitied with a vivid picture of Spiderman, the red and blue lines bleeding out onto the floor and even the MTA didn't have the heart to clean it up when it first appeared. NBC the other day reported on the graffiti being painted over. Tony saw the picture and felt his heart drop into his stomach. Spiderman's once lively bug eyes were crossed out and TRAITOR was spray painted across the image with the black lines from the word seeping onto the floor to mix with the old red and blue. The spider symbol that always sat proudly on Spiderman's chest was completely blotted out and the once striking painting looked entirely unrecognizable. As if Tony was staring at Spiderman's image through fractured glass. Tony knew how much Peter loved that graffiti, for weeks he rode the 7 solely trying to find the exact train and car to take a picture with it. When he finally found it he swung over to Avengers Tower from Queens just to show Tony the selfies he took with it. He had babbled on about how much he loved the graffiti look and how cool it was that he resonated with these artists like that. Tony barely heard a word the kid said but smiled at the light and excitement in Peter's eyes, the way he looked so proud in that moment to be Spiderman and Tony couldn't agree more. Now as he looked at the X's crossing out Spiderman's eyes he could no longer remember the light that was in them before.

And then there were the folks that actually guessed correctly that Spiderman had been kidnapped by the Sinister Six. Tony knew this to be true because his heart couldn't believe otherwise. Although a voice in the back of his head whispered things that made Tony's hands shake. Whispering things that were better kept in the dark. He knew that if he let the whispers grow that finding Peter would be a lost cause. So he kept them down, deep down to where they couldn't crawl back up into his head. Where they would never see the light of day.

But as each day passed with no information on Peter he found the whispers had claws after all.

The only issue with knowing the kidnapping to be true were the questions that came with it and the lack of answers that followed. Why would the Sinister Six kidnap Spiderman?

They hated him, just like they hated the rest of the Avengers, but Tony knew that Spiderman got under their skin in a different way. He had seen footage of fights Peter had against each of them. The way Peter taunted them was juvenile, but they were pointed and precise and possessed a cruelty at times that Tony didn't know Peter was capable of. Peter seemed to know what would cause a reaction and chose his words to suit what he wanted. That was how he won the fights against them. Peter was talented, quick, and strong sure but he was _smart_ , smart enough to know that he was outmatched by the men with more experience fighting than him. So he used his wits to make them lose focus, make them forget anything except **hurt Spiderman** and it always led to them falling into a trap. It let to Electro stepping right underneath a sprinkler system. It led to Rhino's feet being encased in concrete. It led to Mr. Negative over exerting himself and leaving himself vulnerable to attacks. It led to Vulture flying right into a carefully laid web. It led to Scorpion accidentally stinging himself with his own poison. And it led to Doctor Octopus getting his own mechanical limbs tangled and for Spiderman to deliver the final blow. And the villains seemed to fall for it every time because Peter understood them better than they realized. That they were incapable of handling their emotions.

And this is what Tony was afraid of. Men incapable of handling their emotions, their anger... and now they had a 16 year old boy in their clutches. A boy that made their lives hell for years. And the thought of what they would do to Peter, what kind of retribution they sought, was enough to make him lose his lunch.

And it led to the final thought some people had... that Spiderman was dead and wasn't going to return. And that was a thought that had crossed Tony's mind the day of the battle when he went into the backroom looking for Peter and saw the blood painting the floor.

Peter wasn't responding in comms and Natasha had shouted to him as she dodged one of Rhino's attacks. "Tony, Spiderman hasn't been answering!" She shot one of her Widow Bite's at the back of Rhino's neck and the man shuddered under the electric pulse but the attack seemed to just make him more angry as he roared and turned back towards Black Widow.

"Something is wrong! We need to find him!" She grunted, rolling out of Rhino's way but not quick enough as the man clipped her shoulder sending her tumbling into a stack of carboard boxes. Tony shot a repulsor at the Rhino which stunned him enough to stop the stampede and for Steve to confront the large man.

Tony grabbed Natasha's arm yanking her up and without a word grabbed her waist to fly her in the direction he had last seen Peter. They bypassed the rest of the fight with some ease as all of the members of the Sinister Six and their goons were occupied with the other Avengers. Notably Doctor Octopus was missing and a chill ran down Tony's spine as they sped to the back of the construction site where he had seen Peter swing after Doc Ock.

He landed swiftly, noticing a huge hole in the wall that led to a back room. They both climbed through it easily and froze at the sight of the blood on the ground. 

Black Widow was the first to recover from the shock and removed her gun from her holster. She scanned the room and approached the back door, gun drawn. She swung it open, walking the perimeter while Tony stood frozen.

F.R.I.D.A.Y, not needing a command, scanned the blood and spoke low, almost as if she didn't want to say it. _"Boss, I analyzed the blood. It's Mr. Parker's."_

Tony continued to stare lifelessly at the blood as Natasha came back into the room. "There's no sign of anyone, I tried tracking some footprints but the ground didn't hold them well. No doubt it was Doctor Octopus' arms. I didn't see any sign of Spiderman."

Her eyes were cautious as she approached Ironman, completely unmoving and head tilted towards the ground. His mask portraying no emotion but it was almost as if Natasha could sense the tension holding Tony upright. She looked back to the blood and knew in that moment it was Peter's, knew that F.R.I.D.A.Y would have scanned it to be sure, and knew that Tony was going through shock.

Something she didn't have time for. Natasha felt her own blood run cold but her training kicked in. Panic and shock would only slow them down, her mind ran a mile a minute as she put the picture together for Tony.

"He's not dead." She said matter of factly, holstering her gun once more to inspect the room for further clues about the battle that took place there. Tony snapped up at that and croaked out, "How do you know?" and there seemed to be almost hope gleaming off the Ironman mask.

"If he was dead they would've left his body for us to find. They would want to rub it in." She picked through debris on the floor, seeing some dust had shifted under the iron shelf and bent down to inspect it as she continued to inform Tony of her thoughts, "They would want the world to know that they killed Spiderman, so there would be no point to take his body."

"What if they wanted to do some kind of theatrics with it?" Tony said, slowly coming back to himself and tone becoming more of his usual note. "With his body?"

The dust around the iron shelf was definitely shifted, as if something had been thrown there and she looked further along the floor and the faded blood trails added more to the picture. "They probably want to do some kind of theatrics but I suspect it would be more of a show if Spiderman was alive. They could show the world that they can't be trifled with... if they can break Spiderman for all of New York to see-"

"-That would put all other heroes on edge." Tony finished for her, she nodded curtly and pointed to the blood trails. "It looks like they dragged Peter away from this shelf, I think he was trying to grab something underneath but I can't figure out what it was."

Tony scanned the area with the help of F.R.I.D.A.Y and couldn't come up with anything conclusive but his mind filled in the blanks his technology couldn't. "His mask." Tony said quickly. "He was reaching for his mask. He was probably too hurt to fight, h-he would need us... he would need Karen to contact us."

Natasha processed that information quickly, nodding curtly. "They took it then. His mask isn't here." Tony looked around frantically just to make sure Nat was correct. "You're right... why would they take it?"

Natasha couldn't answer that but an idea came to her quick and some relief washed over her. "The tracker! You put a tracker in his suit, right?" Tony's head snapped to look at her as a grin spread across his face. They took Peter's mask, meaning he could find him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y activate the tracker in Peter's suit." Tony said, immense relief and adrenaline coursing through his veins. His body was preparing for a fight, the moment Friday found the location he was taking off. He was going to get Peter back.

_"Boss, I cannot locate Mr. Parker's suit."_

Tony's heart caught in his throat. "What the fuck do you mean? Activate the tracker F.R.I.D.A.Y!" He yelled, Nat's own body going rigged at his command. She was already processing the information faster than Tony could and knew that they had blocked the signal from Peter's suit. They were running out of time to find him.

_"Boss, I did but something is blocking my signal. I cannot locate Mr. Parker's suit."_

"Yes you _fucking_ can!" Tony yelled, his Ironman mask sliding up to reveal his face. His eyes were popping out, a vein standing prominent against his temple, and most of all he looked absolutely desperate. Desperate for F.R.I.D.A.Y to activate the tracker. Desperate because he knew if this didn't work the chance of them finding Peter was slim. "Do it now!"

"Tony!" Nat snapped, but the man continued to scream at his AI, oblivious to his comrade, his eyes unseeing as his voice raised to a pitch Natasha had never heard before.

There was no time for this, no time for Tony's emotions. Not when Peter's life was at risk. She strode up to the man and slapped him across the face, hard. Tony's head snapped to the side and he whipped back around to stare at her incredulously. Black Widow had never struck Tony like that before, sure she had punched him, flipped him, and generally kicked his ass but never slapped. A slap felt _different_ somehow. It felt unpredictable, which she never was.

Her own eyes looked a bit wild but they were still sharp, still focused on what needed to be done. He would've said she looked as composed as ever if it wasn't for the slight twitch in her hand and he realized how worried she was too for Peter in that moment. How much she was falling apart too, but couldn't afford to as Tony had taken on that role. Slight guilt came over him at his actions but she quickly washed it away when she said, "F.R.I.D.A.Y can't help with the tracker. You need to use her to scan the city, access CCTV. Use her to find Peter a different way."

Tony's eyes hardened. She was right, he had to focus. He nodded and the mask fell back over his face. Without another word he left out the back door his repulsors pushing him into the sky as he barked new commands for F.R.I.D.A.Y to follow.

Natasha stood back watching her friend fly off in search of their fellow Avenger. There wasn't much else she could do on the ground to look for Peter at the moment, but she needed this battle to end quickly and with one of the Sinister Six captured. They would have the information she needed and her expression grew cold as she looked at Spiderman's drying blood on the concrete floor. And an old Russian proverb came into her mind as she stared hard at the floor. 

_"Death does not take the old but the ripe."_

She un-holstered her gun, eyes steely and expression barely showing the seething rage she felt as she went to rejoin the battle. 

She always hated that stupid fucking proverb.

__________________________________________

Needless to say the battle did not end as expected. The Vulture had started a diversion by using his wings to create a makeshift tornado that caught some civilians in its grasp. The priority of the battle then shifted to rescue as the Avengers moved fast to keep the civilians from being torn apart by the harsh winds. During the diversion all of the members were able to escape without a trace and Nat's steely expression hardened indefinitely. She was able to stun and tie up one of their goons before he ran away.

The man hollered and even tried to bite her as she finished tying the knots around his wrists. "You'll pay for this you _cunt_!" He screamed and spit in her face. The saliva hitting her directly on the cheek. He looked like a wild animal trapped, baring its teeth in order to scare off the predator. But Natasha was never easily scared and a quick jab to his neck left the man quiet. His face going slack as he blacked out. She wanted to kill him in that moment. Not for what he called her, she's heard worse, or even the spit. It was the only outlet she had to show the world how she felt.

But she was no longer an assassin, she was an Avenger and they didn't kill. And even in her rage she didn't forget that. This was also the only current clue to Peter's whereabouts and she was going to have fun getting that information out of him.

She left the unconscious minion on the ground as she returned to her other teammates who were helping civilians into ambulances and police cars that finally arrived. Clint noticed her approaching and his weariness from battle seemed to fall as he noticed her expression. He could tell from just one look at her that the battle wasn't over.

She spoke to Clint in a low tone, not wanting anyone else even their fellow teammates to hear what happened. They couldn't risk the media finding out about Spiderman's kidnapping, not so soon when the first few hours of a kidnapping were so important. They needed to be able to move under the radar of police and media, under the radar of civilians. The shadows were more important now than they had ever been before. Discretion was key.

Clint's face never betrayed how he felt at the information but his hand tightening around his bow was all Nat needed to know about what her partner was thinking. He was feeling the same cold, rage seep into his bones just as she was. It was a coldness they were familiar with in their line of work. Normally it was an empty coldness to steel their nerves to do what they needed to do, it was not emotional. They couldn't afford emotional.

But there were times when the coldness shifted like the sea coming to shore, it moved slow and steady and morphed into an iciness that became overwhelming, as if it stole all of your breath away. It was all encapsulating and it felt powerful. 

It was dangerous to feel this way.

But there was no helping it as they watched Tony fly back down to the site, his mask off and his face crestfallen. Because it was in that moment that they knew the iciness was a necessary evil and one they would gladly immerse themselves in if it meant bringing Peter home.

____________________________

It had been three days and they were no closer to finding Peter than the day he went missing. No news broke about Spiderman or Peter Parker suddenly showing up. Tony even kept tabs on the bodies of John Doe's appearing and checked everyone out, his heart hammering in his chest as he saw the autopsy photos and only returning to a normal rhythm when he realized he didn't recognize the faces. It felt strange and inhuman to feel _relief_ at another human's death but he didn't have time to confront those thoughts as his entire world had been upended and the only thing that mattered was finding Peter.

Steve appeared as disheveled as Tony felt and clearly the man had been running around New York breaking up every crime syndicate he could think of to find some kind of information on the Sinister Six's whereabouts, but every time he returned to Avengers Tower the defeat rang clear through the room. His eyes downcast and his demeanor tired. Steve had never looked so tired before.

Bruce spent his time analyzing the construction site and only returned to the tower if he needed to run tests in his lab. Tony wasn't quite sure what he was hoping to find but he knew that Bruce needed to do this in order to be doing _something_ to look for Peter. He was not a solider like Steve, or a trained spy like Natasha and Clint, this was the one thing he felt like he could do and Tony understood the feeling completely. He needed to keep moving so he didn't think and didn't feel the loss that they were all trying to push down. 

Sam and Bucky often joined Steve on his missions, breaking off at times trying to gather their own intel from old contacts but they too always returned just as defeated as Steve. Sam and Clint's normal chatter hadn't graced a room in days and the silence felt heavier and eerie in the tower.

Clint spent his time with SHIELD, working directly with Fury and Maria Hill to track Peter down. Tony didn't like the idea of SHIELD being involved but Clint had put his worries to rest. He knew SHIELD better than any of them and assured Tony that this was the best way to look for Peter. More eyes searching meant a higher chance of finding him, and with SHIELD involved the Sinister Six couldn't stay hidden for long.

Natasha had disappeared entirely on the first day with the man she captured from the site. He was one of Martin Li's minions and she had taken him into the basement of Avengers Tower. Tony knew what was happening and didn't care. It should matter to him the fate this man suffered, he was supposed to be the good guy goddammit, but a darkness had settled over Tony's heart and thoughts, and he looked at the man as if he were an ant trying to eat his picnic. He ought to be squished.

Nat emerged at the end of the day, looking clean, not a hair out of place, not even a fleck of dirt stuck under her fingernails. Her appearance said nothing of what she had been doing and neither did her eyes. She looked as stoic as a statue but as Tony came to know her over the years he came to realize that the stoicness was in place to conceal what she really felt. And that always lied in her words.

"He knows nothing, it would be a waste of time to continue with him." She got a water bottle from the fridge, drinking it slowly. "I've handed him over to the police, gave them a story about how he escaped from the fight earlier. They bought it." Tony just nodded, shoulders sagging. He didn't think that the guy knew anything but there had been some hope, a small glimmer that this man was part of the intricate plot to kidnap Spiderman, and now that hope was as crushed as the water bottle Nat finished drinking out of.

During those three days Tony's mind swirled with thoughts. Was the kidnapping planned? Did Doc Ock always plan to separate Peter, incapacitate him and steal him away unnoticed as a fight raged on? Was the man even capable of it?

Why kidnap Spiderman? Surely if they were planning to make a show of it they wouldn't wait so long to show the world Spiderman broken. Spiderman defeated. He didn't know too much about the Sinister Six, not like Peter did, but he did know that they were not patient men. Villains rarely are. That's why they always lose, they always get ahead of themselves.

Then he thought they were keeping Peter as a bargaining chip. They wanted _something_ from him. Money? Possibly, but Tony doubted it. The only thing that seemed even plausible was some kind of immunity. Spiderman would be returned safe as long as the Avengers would never interfere with them again. But that could never hold and there was no way Tony could guarantee that. He could say it and mean it, but the Sinister Six would never believe him, nor should they. His words didn't hold any weight for them.

For three days Tony tried to piece together the puzzle and he kept coming back to a missing piece. There was something missing from this picture and he couldn't put his finger on it. He couldn't piece it all together and it was driving him to the brink of insanity. What was the point of being one of the smartest men in the world if it did nothing to help Peter in this moment?

The whispers clawed their way up saying things he had thought about himself for years. _He wasn't good enough and never would be._ How could he save Peter when he was no better than the men that had taken him. All of the regret, all of his doubts about giving Peter the suit came back to slap him across the face.

It all stung and was all too much to bear. This was his fault, and his alone, and now a boy under his care could be dead because of his anger towards Steve. Because of his decision to involve a child in the fight in Berlin. He continued to put Peter in harms way, always waving away his concerns about Spiderman's age because he could _see_ what Peter was capable of. How strong, quick, smart, and reflexive the kid was. Even in the hairiest fights Peter won in the end. He was the better version of Tony in every way imaginable and he was supposed to protect him...

Tony was no better than his father. 

The image of Howard Stark floated in his peripheral and he shut his eyes with a hiss. This was no time to be thinking about his dad, those were demons to tackle for another day.

 _"Boss, there's a transmission coming through."_ F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice chimed over the intercom.

Tony swiveled in his chair, staring at the ceiling in surprise.

"Transmission? Who the hell is calling me?"

_"I think you'll want to see this with the rest of the Avengers. It's about Mr. Parker."_

F.R.I.D.A.Y didn't even need to finish her sentence before Tony was jumping out his chair and running up the stairs to the living room. He didn't even need to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y to gather the rest of the team, knowing she was already on it.

Steve was already in the living room, hair wet from a recent shower, and dark bags standing starkly against his pale skin. He looked like he hadn't slept in days and Tony knew he looked the same. Bruce and Clint stood at the back of the kitchen looking tense and Natasha sat on the couch already staring at the screen, her focus honed in on the information about to come through. Tony didn't know where the rest of the team were but knew Steve would fill them in later.

Tony didn't say a word to his team as he knew they were prepared in their own ways to hear news about Peter. 

"F.R.I.D.A.Y patch it through." Tony said, eyes narrowing on the screen and his heart racing behind his chest, pulsating through his limbs. He felt like an electric wire, live and unstable.

The TV turned on and the face of the man Tony had been searching for for the past three days popped onto the screen. Doctor Octopus stood before them, no more real than the whispers that spoke to Tony, but Tony could feel his hands curl into fists and the thought of smashing the doctor's face in nearly gripped him entirely.

"Octavius," Natasha spoke first, surprising the rest of the team. Her voice was calm but as Tony moved to sit next to her he could see her nails digging into her palms, blood blossoming at the tips. She was using the pain to hide her emotions. "Show us Spiderman, we want proof of life before you tell us whatever bargain you want to strike."

Doctor Octopus stood, hands limp at his side and expression flat, but his mechanical limbs betrayed him by lashing out, agitated, behind him. Tony knew that the limbs were somewhat sentient and responded to the feelings of their master. The doctor wasn't standing there smug, like Tony expected, but he stood there furious.

"No." The doctor said coolly, arms twisting behind him like a snake being charmed out of its pot. "I will not show you him, nor is there a bargain to be struck."

Silence and confusion fell upon the room, weighing everything down in a heaviness. It felt like none of them were breathing until Steve spoke, "If you hurt him there is nothing stopping us from-"

"-Spiderman is alive and well." The doctor said, his glare turning onto Captain America and looking at him like he was the most disgusting thing in the world. Steve was taken aback by the expression and even looked to Tony for an explanation. 

Tony had none.

"Somehow I don't believe you," Tony snarled, now standing up. He didn't bother trying to keep his composure. Why did composure matter in this moment? Where was it getting him? Tony wanted to look disheveled, he wanted the doctor to know how unhinged he was in this moment. How _dangerous_ he was. How he was not a man to fuck with.

"There's no reason for you to keep Spiderman alive unless you wanted something in exchange for his life. So spit it the fuck out already!" Tony shouted, getting closer to the screen with every word he spat.  
"Get to the fucking point you piece of shit! Enough with the bullshit! I swear to god if you hurt him-"

Doc Ock's expression changed fast and the true rage his arms were showcasing took over his face. "Hurt him? Tell me Stark did you think about that when you put a child into your personal army?" He snarled back, teeth bared and his tentacles clicking rapidly behind, looking more and more like an octopus with each passing second.

Tony stopped, frozen but the doctor did not, "Was it for you ego? Was it because a child is easier to control? What was the reason Stark... because I would love to know why you do the things you do."

Nobody said a word, the room seemed to freeze with Tony. His heart stopped. He didn't know what to say, what to do. Why was Doctor Octopus so angry about this? Why would he care?

The doctor seemed to notice the look of horror on everyone's faces and sneered. "I bet you never gave it a second thought." His smugness was now on display, just like Tony expected to see at the beginning of their call. 

"I am going to protect him." Doc Ock said with a certainty that rattled Tony.

"Protect him?" Bruce piped up, moving closer to the TV. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Doc Ock looked at him coldly, clarifying, "I'm going to keep him safe from those that would do him harm... and as I see it those people are you."

"What the fuck are you talking about!" Clint yelled, joining Bruce in front of the screen. "You can't keep him, he's not a fucking toy!"

Doctor Octopus frowned. "I can and I will. I will make sure his life is never put in jeopardy. I will make sure he is taken care for. All you need to know, _Avengers_ ," He said the word as if it tasted bitter on his tongue, "is that he is in my care now. He is no longer your concern."

The transmission abruptly ended and the Avengers stared back at their own horrified expressions reflecting in the black screen. 

"What the fuck was that?" Clint whispered and nobody made a move to answer him. Nobody had an answer for him. They were more confused than when they began.

But even though Tony was shaking and felt a chill unlike anything in his life run up his spine, one fact stood out to him and that fact kept him on his feet.

**Peter is alive. ******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks again for reading and I hope you liked this chapter, I tried mixing it up with some different POV's so I hope you liked the switch.


	5. Every Tempest

_"If after every tempest come such calms, May the winds blow till they have waken'd death"_ \- Shakespeare, Othello

Octavius cut the transmission, looking at his own furious reflection in the black screen. His tentacles twisted behind, clicking in agitation, still feeling the anger coil through their circuits. He turned to his comrade who had stood off from the screen for the entirety of the call making sure the Avengers hadn't attempted to track their location through the transmission.

Vulture met his gaze, eyes a little wary and answered the unspoken question. "No attempts to trace the call, not even the A.I. interfered during it." That was surprising to Octavius but he gave a curt nod none the less, he trusted Adrian had done his due diligence and didn't need to question him further. 

"Good," Doc Ock answered. He turned away, looking to the prone figure lying still in the bed behind him. 

Spiderman's chest rose and fell in a steady rhythmic pattern, face slack and peaceful as he slept on unaware that Octavius had just had his fellow Avengers on the line mere seconds ago. He wouldn't have made the call with the boy in the room if he hadn't been sure Peter was definitely asleep. The second IV bag hooked up to Peter's right arm with anesthesia helped crush any doubts that the teenager was simply feigning sleep. They had hooked him up to the anesthesia a few hours ago in preparation for the call. They'd done it while he had already been asleep so he didn't have a chance to fight back. Octavius didn't like forcing Peter unconscious but he had to be sure he couldn't say anything to the Avengers, let alone that they were closer than Stark and his crew probably thought.

"Why didn't you show them?" Adrian asked, looking pointedly at Peter. "I thought we kept him knocked out so you could show them he's alive."

It was true. That had been the plan and the only reason Doctor Octopus would even think about talking to his enemies with Peter in the same room, it was a risk regardless of the anesthesia or not. A calculated risk he was willing to make. He wanted to show the Avengers that they had failed in keeping Spiderman safe and he had succeeded where they could not. He'd be lying if he didn't admit he wanted to call them partly due to his own ego. To rub it in their faces, especially Stark's, that he could care for Peter better than they ever could. That he had also taken a valuable asset from their team, one they would not get back. He didn't view the boy as an object, but he would be obtuse to not realize how taking Spiderman out of the picture would change the game for the Sinister Six and other like-minded people in New York.

Spiderman had been a thorn in their side long before he joined the Avengers but after he teamed up with the other heroes he became even more so. He was a thorn that could no longer be removed. He was still dealing with smaller crime in New York and with the backing of the Avengers, especially Tony Stark's wealth, he was able to clean up the streets faster than he had ever been able to before. Spiderman was one of the only Avengers focusing on the every day of New York City rather than the bigger threats, and truth be told he made more of a difference than any of the Avengers did. Because the day to day crimes were the ones that would grow and fester if left unchecked, they would lead to bigger and more dangerous outcomes and Spiderman was there to nip it in the bud before it had a chance to bloom.

He was one of the main reasons the Sinister Six never truly won, and now... he was no longer a problem.

But he did have all intentions of showing Peter to the Avengers, he was even smug at the idea of the anger on their faces, the hopelessness they would feel in that moment but when Black Widow had asked for proof of life Doc Ock made a different decision. He looked at all of them and knew in that moment they thought him to be a monster. They thought him and his comrades to be the kind of men to torture and kill children, they didn't even pause to give it some thought. In their eyes that was the truth. That Octavius would kill a child to prove a point.

And in that split second of realization he decided they didn't deserve to see Peter, to see him safe and unharmed. They didn't deserve to feel relief at seeing his resting face. 

They deserved nothing.

Well that's not entirely true. They deserved to suffer. 

So Octavius gave them just that.

Anger sat in his belly, low and growling, at the start of the call but it spread like a virus when Stark spoke to him. _Stark_ , a weapons manufacturer and no doubt responsible for hundreds and thousands of children dying at the hands of his creations, was lecturing him on _hurting a child_. That was when the anger had exploded and he couldn't contain himself, and lost himself in the moment. Even to this second he wasn't entirely aware of what he said to them, but by the look on Vulture's face it was nothing too telling.

"They don't deserve to see him." Octavius answer, voice clipped, and his arms seem to hiss in agreeance with him.

"Deserve?" Adrian echoed, eyebrows pinching together in confusion. "That was a risk to call them and for what? What was the point of that call exactly, Octavius?" He pressed, eyes narrowing. 

It was a fair question. Why did Doc Ock call the Avengers? To taunt? A little for sure, but he found himself mainly trying to satiate his own curiosity. It was a curiosity that began last night when Peter stood at the window, small body shaking with sobs as he looked out to the Avengers Tower. Octavius had watched him for a few seconds before speaking to him. Had let himself sit in the moment of this teenager crying at the idea of being close to his "family," as he called them when lashing out at the doctor later. What made the Avengers so special to Spiderman?

He wanted to know and in a small corner at the recess of his mind too he knew he called partly due to guilt as well. Guilt at the way Peter had raged in his arms, completely broken and destroyed at being taken away. Away from a life he probably never imagined being without. Away from people that knew him best. All the while being thrust into the belly of the beast, thinking he would be devoured at any moment. It had chipped away at Octavius' heart just a little and he knew that Peter would feel better knowing the Avengers knew he was alive. And so he did it partly for the hero in his care as well, but that was something he would never say aloud.

"If they know he is alive they'll be more cautious when looking. They'll need to ensure his safety. It'll take them time to put together a plan." Doctor Octopus answered in an even tone, facing his colleague. 

"But now they know we have no intention of handing Spiderman over!" Vulture growled, making another fair point. "What's to stop them from coming in guns blazing if they assume we won't hurt him?"

"What do the Avengers think of us, Adrian?" Octavius shifted his goggles, an eerie calmness washing over his expression. His arms finally settling down to echo the way their master felt.

"What?" Adrian asked, incredulous. "The hell is that question?"

"How do the Avengers think of us? How does anyone think of us?" Doc Ock pressed, sitting down on the sofa.

"I... I don't know. That we're the bad guys obviously." Adrian grumbled, annoyance lacing his tone.

"Yes, but what more than that? What traits do they assume we have?"

"I don't know!" Adrian shouted, clearly done with the conversation. "That we're cheaters, thieves, liars, murderers! Do I need to add any more adjectives to whatever fucking analogy you're trying to get at!"

The doctor smiled, wide and toothy and slightly unnerving, "Yes all of those things, especially that we're _liars_... that our words can't be trusted." He stood back up, an air of excitement now in his posture.

"That we will lie any chance we get! The only one to know us as anything but liars is here!" He moved over to Peter's side, his hand resting on the boy's unmoving shoulder. "And he can't tell them a thing... they will analyze my words, constantly circling a thought in their heads, _"What if he's lying?"_ They will never know for sure and that will be to our advantage." He finished, letting his hand drop from Peter's shoulder to return to the Vulture's side. "They cannot trust that we won't hurt him so they can't afford to storm the brigade with no knowledge of Spiderman's well-being." 

The Vulture let his own twisted smile worm onto his face but by the look in his eye he still didn't agree with the doctor completely, but for now his questions had been answered and he would trust in their leader. He had never led them astray before.

"I suppose you're right... but we need to up our defenses." Vulture grew more serious again. "This warehouse won't stay hidden for long if we don't do anything about security. We need to be able to cloak ourselves."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "What did you have in mind?"

Vulture grinned, "I know a guy who's pretty good at cloaking people."

"Can he be trusted though?" Doctor Octopus asked, wariness in his face. He glanced back slightly to Peter, the obvious question hanging in the air. 

"Trusted enough... but we will need to keep Spiderman hidden. Spiderman has fought with this man before and I don't know if he will feel the same as we do about the boy. It's for the best if he knows nothing about Spiderman." Adrian said curtly, determination in his eyes looking at Peter's sleeping figure as well. Doc Ock may have come up with the plan to bring the teenager here but he knew the rest of his team felt the same as he did. They would all make sure Spiderman was safe and not just from the Avengers.

He had meant it when he told the Avengers he planned to keep Peter safe from everyone that would do him harm, and he was no fool to believe other villains would have the same change of heart as they did about the boy. A few faces came to mind when he thought about who wouldn't see a difference in Spiderman at all, they would simply see the same enemy as they always did.

He just hoped whoever the Vulture was going to bring in wasn't one of those faces. 

\------------------------------

"These are some sad digs you guys got," Mysterio whistled, seeming amused by the tour of the warehouse Toomes and Electro were giving him. Annoyance flickered onto Electro's face but he said nothing as Vulture spoke for the two of them, "It's not ideal for sure, but it has made due in the past."

"Yeah but the past is the past," Mysterio waved a lazy hand, some gas erupting from under his sleeve. "Oh shit!" He waved his hands about trying to disperse the gas quickly, and warned, "Don't breathe that in... it's a neurotoxin. It'll kill ya!" He laughed loudly and continued on. Electro and Vulture gave each other looks and Adrian was beginning to wonder if this was a mistake.

Mysterio was inspecting the bathroom, looking over the windows and access points. "It's pretty bold of you guys to set up shop right under the Avengers noses." He moved his finger as if to place under his nose, but the effect was lost as his finger sat against the giant dome sitting over his head. Adrian couldn't even tell if his finger was close to Mysterio's nose or not. "It's bold, but also smart. Their arrogance wouldn't let them think people like us would purposefully be so close to their home base." Mysterio tapped his helmet, a small ding clinking off the glass.

"... That was our thought." Electro answered. Toomes could tell Maxwell was growing tired of their "friend." Mysterio had been pushing his buttons the moment he walked into the place and Vulture couldn't lie, the man was also growing more annoyed with the eccentric hypnotist with every passing moment.

"Seems like you guys got it all figured out then!" Mysterio laughed, tossing his hands up into the air, a cloud of smoke burst from his gloves and when it cleared Mysterio was gone. Electro and Vulture jumped, looking wildly around for the man. Electro opting to slam open the bathroom stall doors, searching desperately for the villain.

"I don't know why you guys need my help if you're so smart and all!" Mysterio called out from another room, and both men sprinted out of the bathroom into the large open warehouse to see Mysterio sitting casually on the small cardboard box that had previously been Spiderman's nightstand. 

"Don't do that!" Electro growled, stomping over to Mysterio winding his fist up in the fabric of his shirt. Electricity crackling down his skin. Mysterio's helmet tilted down eyeing the hand grabbing his shirt and even though Vulture couldn't see his face he knew a wide grin was gracing his features. The man clearly liked to wind people up, especially people like Maxwell.

"Ooohh tough guy I see," Mysterio jeered, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Apologizes for the sudden disappearance... sometimes I forget myself. Won't happen again, Scouts Honor!" He held out his pinky for Electro to take but the man simply growled and released the illusionist from his grip, but not backing up.

"Mysterio we need your help to cloak this place. As you said the Avengers won't think we're here for some time but eventually they'll wise up. We rather prevent that from happening." Adrian said calmly, some exasperation seeping into his tone. Mysterio was always a handful to deal with, but having Electro as his partner for this wasn't the best idea either. The man was easily riled and his anger management was abysmal at best.

Mysterio paused before continuing his inspection of the building. "I saw something about that on the news... you guys did the tango recently, huh?" He paused for a moment too long looking at the newly taped carboard over the window. The piece stood out in contrast to the rest since it was a newer one and not yet faded with age. He didn't linger too long though as he continued on, "I heard Spiderman is missing as well... I'll say ain't that the best news to come out of this year." Mysterio said, voice tinged with smugness.

"I do enjoy playing with the spider but I must admit it'll make my life a whole lot easier without him in the picture. I'm sure you lot are celebrating as well, huh?" Mysterio probed, stopping his movements to stare at Vulture and Electro.

The man may be eccentric but he was also sharp. Adrian knew he was prying them for information about Spiderman, they knew what the news cycles were suggesting and what everyone assumed happened at the construction site. And he also knew the reason for Mysterio needing to see the entirety of the warehouse. He was looking for a kidnapped Spiderman.

"We would be but now the Avengers are on our asses," Electro answered smoothly, a hot current running down the side of his neck to show his frustration. "Never a moment's peace with those fuckers."

"Hmmm," Mysterio rolled the word along the tip of his tongue. "That's certainly true. They are rather pesky when they want to be. Especially now that their precious Spider is missing!" He threw his arm over his dome and pretended to faint dramatically. "Whatever will they do without Spiderman!" He wailed, before straightening up and cackling to himself at his own joke.

"I can see why they think you have Spiderman though," Mysterio pressed, amusement still circling his words. "He was seen with you lot right before he disappeared... and apparently nobody saw anything. Like he was an illusion." Mysterio drew out some fake flowers from his sleeve and handed them to Electro who promptly grabbed them and burned them to a crisp with his electrical discharge before letting the ashes fall from his fingers.

Mysterio seemed to almost frown, even with no expression available. "You owe me $3.49 for that."

"Be-... Mysterio," Adrian interrupted, almost saying Mysterio's actual name. He knew the man didn't like to be referred to in that manner especially in front of people he didn't know like Electro. "I see what you're getting at but I can tell you that if we had Spiderman he would be dead. We would've dropped his body off at Times Square for all of New York to see. There's not a soul in this world that wouldn't know that _we_ were the ones to end that fucking nuisance!" Vulture put on a good show, growing angrier with each word he said and spat out the last sentence as if it bothered him that they were unable to do just that. "But we have no idea what happened to him. Trust me, we're just as curious as you but that's not our problem right now. Our problem is the Avengers and I'm calling in my favor... we need your help."

Mysterio seemed to freeze at that. "Ah... the _favor_... I'm surprised you're using it on this." He said rather lazily and let his body fall back only for it to be seemingly caught by some invisible force. He was laying down on open air, looking like a cat sprawled out in a sun patch. "You must be _really_ worried about these guys, huh?"

Adrian nodded, looking serious. "We are."

Mysterio hummed to himself, a tune unfamiliar to Toomes, and just as Electro was about to snap for an answer Mysterio jumped back, feet landing harshly on the concrete.

"Alright! I'll help and I won't even charge my usual fee," His voice had a wink in it. "This is your chip you're throwing in and you can't un-toss it now!" He guffawed, finding the whole situation terribly funny even though both of the other men didn't see any humor in it.

"I've been working on a little special effects project that I think I'll lend to you guys, it'll also help me collect some data of my own about how well they work." He snapped his fingers, looking in his cloak for something.

"We need something that is not a work in progress!" Electro yelled. "This is not the time to be testing your experiments!"

Mysterio laughed again, starting to walk up the walls as he continued to dig into his cloak. "Not to worry my shocky little friend! These have been tested before, just not on this grand of a scale but I have no doubts they'll perform exactly as I made them to... Aha!" Mysterio finally found what he was looking for which was a simple remote that looked remarkably like a television remote. "Here it is!"

He walked back down the walls to the floor and handed the remote to Vulture. "What's this?" Adrian turned the remote over looking for anything suspicious but it seemed to be an actual tv remote.

"A remote!" Mysterio laughed. "Did you go blind Vulture?"

"I mean what does it do?" Adrian asked, annoyance creeping back into his voice. "Now you're asking the right questions!" Mysterio said jovially, "Here turn the power on."

Adrian looked at him for a moment, unsure if he should press the button but as Mysterio looked at him seemingly with pleading eyes, although Toomes couldn't see any facial feature of the insane villain, he sighed and did as he was told.

A whirring sound hung in the air, and Electro and Vulture snapped their heads to the corner of the room. A drone sat there, now no longer invisible and humming with electricity.

"What the fuck is that?" Electro asked, nervousness and curiosity mixing together.

"That my friends is my gift for you!" Mysterio cheered. "This baby will cast any illusion you want and better yet it is undetectable to AI's like Ironman's pesky F.R.I.D.A.Y. Even if he used her she would have no idea this thing was here as long as it's cloaked."

"Are you sure?" Vulture asked cautiously, wary that Stark's AI couldn't detect something like this. It sounded too good to be true.

"Positive!" Mysterio said with a smile in his voice. "I tested it out, I flew a smaller version into Avengers Tower and no alarms were raised. I even messed with some of the stuff in there and nobody could figure out what was happening." He laughed at that, a loud and uproarious one that filled the whole room. "You guys should've seen the looks on their faces!! Especially the Black Widow, it's tough to get that kind of look out of her." He went to wipe the tears from his eyes, but his fingers just swiped against the outside of his helmet.

"So this thing will project anything?" Adrian asked, skepticism still there.

"Ab-so-lutely! I'll show ya!" Mysterio grabbed the remote, hit a few sequence of buttons and all of a sudden Spiderman appeared in the room standing in his iconic red and blue suit, mask over his face.

Both Electro and Vulture jumped into defensive positions, mostly out of habit when seeing Spiderman, but quickly realized this was not actually Spiderman. They almost forgot that the real Spiderman was locked away in a back room with Doc Ock still under the anesthesia. 

"Woah." Electro said moving closer to the image, walking around it slowly. "It really looks like he's here."

"Yep! I can even make him speak and move too if I want!" Mysterio hit a few more buttons and Spiderman jumped to the wall, sticking to the edge. The mask moved slightly as the hero shouted, "Is that the best you got? I thought I was fighting against a pigeon for a second!"

Vulture's cheeks grew red in embarrassment and Mysterio laughed, falling to the floor. "That one was so good Toomesy, do you remember that!! I didn't stop laughing for weeks."

"Yeah I remember." Adrian gritted out, agitation flitting onto his face looking at the illusion of Spiderman. It really seemed like he was right there taunting Vulture.

Electro snickered quietly to himself and Vulture shot him a look, the smile disappeared behind a cough.

"So, I'm assuming this thing can't just project anything? It needs some kind of recording or audio to splice things together." Vulture continued, ignoring the rolling Mysterio on the floor as he went up to inspect the drone further.

"Correct-oh-mundo," Msyterio collected himself, getting up from the floor and brushing the dust from his cloak. "If you're able to capture any kind of image or audio this thing can put the rest of the pieces together quite impressively. But say if you wanted to show a different world's terrain you would need this thing to capture some real life footage before it could make the fake one, ya feel me?"

"Got it," Adrian mumbled, still inspecting the drone up close. He was impressed such a small thing was capable of all that. Mysterio must have been working on it for quite some time.

"I'll lend ya 4 of these things, that should be enough to conceal this building and whatever interior as well." Mysterio pressed some more buttons on the remote and Spiderman disappeared as well as the drone in the corner of the room, going back to being entirely invisible. "I'll show you how to operate it, but it's pretty intuitive. I made it easy on purpose, don't wanna be fumbling with controls in the middle of a battle ya know."

Adrian smiled, "These will work great, thank you old friend." He reached for the remote but Mysterio jerked it back just out of arm's reach. "Ah ah ah.... we still haven't discussed the price of payment yet." Adrian's eyes slanted, "Payment? I told you I'm tossing in the favor you owe me, that should cover it."

Mysterio dome tilted backwards as if looking smugly down on Vulture and Electro. "Sure that covers most of it, but these are precious! They're my babies ya know and I'm not sure if you're a trusted babysitter quite yet... so Imma need a little more incentive before I go out on date night with the hubby."

Vulture gritted his teeth, eyes ablaze, but he didn't lash out. They needed those drones and Mysterio knew it. He held the remote, waggling it as if Vulture was a dog and the remote a bone. He kind of felt like he was in that moment.

"What's your price?"

Mysterio's grin grew, encompassing his face, making him look like the true villain he was even though neither men could see it. His eyes were saying it all, **he'd won**.

"My price is a favor."

Vulture looked on confused, "What? A favor?"

"Yep! Just a small favor, I don't know what it'll be yet but I promise it won't be anything you can't uphold on your end! And no where near as big as a favor as this one. Just something small when the time comes." Mysterio said with the familiar lightness in his tone. It seemed innocent enough but Adrian had come to know the man quite well in recent years and his illusions didn't start and end with his tricks, they always began with his words. But even though Toomes knew that this favor would not be as small or easily done as Mysterio said it would, he had no choice but to accept. They needed his technology whether they liked it or not.

"Deal." He stuck his hand out and Mysterio grabbed it excitedly. "Deal!"

When he pulled his hand away a colorful array of tied up handkerchiefs came with it, that didn't end even as Adrian kept pulling.

Mysterio laughed once more before saying with a lightheartedness, "Sorry, couldn't resist!"

Adrian hoped that was the last time he had to hear Mysterio's laugh for a while. He needed an aspirin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed!
> 
> It's Christmas Eve in my time zone today, so Merry Christmas everyone and Happy Holidays! Hope you are doing well and able to enjoy this time ^^


	6. Pale Fire

_"The moon's an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun."_ -Shakespeare, Timon of Athens

Peter awoke with the distinguishing sound of clicking, almost against his ears, incessant in their quest to drag Peter from the depths of the ocean back to the land of the living. He opened his eyes, wearily, images swimming before him and his head felt like it had been stuffed full of lead, feeling impossibly heavy compared to the rest of his body. The images slowly stopped circling, but it couldn't possibly be so cause Peter could've _sworn_ he saw what looked like a tail swish by past his head. That couldn't be right though, he had to be hallucinating.

He could hear murmuring but the voices seemed far away, almost as if encased in glass, and he believed them to be another figment of his imagination until he felt a hand grip his shoulder, a little too tightly. He groaned quietly and the hand retreated somewhat at the noise but it returned quickly and a voice followed, "Kid, are you awake?"

The voice seemed to be almost gurgling, it sounded distorted like when you talk into a fan kind of distorted. He recognized it as a _voice_ but it sounded inhuman. 

He blinked the tilting world away and turned his head just ever so slightly to locate the owner of the hand. Scorpion's face, lacking its usual smugness, was looking down at him, a modest concern shining in his green eyes. For once the villain was without his mask and Peter realized he had never really seen the man's face clearly before. He had always encountered him with the suit on, and looking at him now it was nothing remarkable. He looked like an ordinary man, one you would never look twice at on the street, and for some reason Peter never thought any of the villains to be ordinary men before. They had always just been villains to him, but he supposed at one point they had just been... well, normal. They must have had normal lives. They probably had jobs, friends, partners. They would've been no different than the citizens Peter protects everyday as Spiderman and the thought of his captors being ordinary people made his stomach turn.

"How are you feeling?" Scorpion asked, eyes darting over Peter's figure looking for any signs of discomfort. 

Scorpion's voice was starting to clear up but it still sounded strange. The spinning didn't stop completely either but it was coming to a crawling halt just like a ferris wheel at the end of the ride. He pushed himself into a sitting position, Scorpion making no move to help, which was a relief for once, and was able to situate himself to having his back pressed against his pillows.

"Heavy," Peter grumbled out, his voice sounded rough. He needed some water.

"Heavy?" Scorpion echoed, confused. "What does that mean?"

Peter brought his hand to his head, as if he could rub the lead out of it. "Like... my head feels heavy, hard to concentrate." He clarified, closing his eyes to help with the spinning.

"Ah," Scorpion said, and Peter could hear him shifting around the room, "The doc said that's to be expected. He said it'll go away soon." Something cold was pressed into Peter's hand and he jumped a little at the suddenness of it. "Drink this."

The teenager cracked open his eyes and looked down to a glass of clear liquid in his hand. It seemed to be water but Peter was wary. He was starting to realize he felt like shit for a reason, and he knew his captors were the reason for it. He just wasn't quite sure what they had done to him yet. He looked at the glass, distrust clear in his eyes.

"It's water, kid. Drink it." Scorpion huffed. Peter didn't make any move and simply stared back at Scorpion defiantly. There was no way he was going to drink it without knowing for sure.

"Oh for Christ's sake," Scorpion rolled his eyes, ripping the water from Peter's grip and drinking some of it before handing the glass back. "It ain't poisoned or whatever the fuck you think, it's just water so drink it."

Peter glared but did as Scorpion said and downed the glass hurriedly. He didn't realize how thirsty he was. Scorpion went to refill it and Peter polished off a second glass. After his third glass Scorpion opted just to bring a case of water bottles for him and dropped it next to his bed.

He noticed his nightstand was missing and only then did he realize his bed had been moved. He was no longer situated in the large open room of the warehouse, he was now in small room with actual walls. 

It wasn't the office Doc Ock had taken him in before, it was an entirely new room. His bed was the only piece of furniture there and had no windows to gaze out of. The only exit was a door that Scorpion was blocking with his body. Peter's heart hammered in his chest, the room felt like a prison cell. 

"W-why did you move me?" He asked, stammering slightly, trying hard not to show his anxiety at the move. He needed to gather information from his enemy, now was not the time to panic.

Scorpion sighed, running a ragged hand down his face. "Doc thought you might be more comfortable having your own space, not feel like we're always watching you." The answer didn't seem entirely dishonest to Peter but it definitely wasn't the whole truth. Scorpion was transparent with his emotions and without the mask it was even more so. Peter wasn't good at a lot of things but he did like to think of himself good at reading people. He had been reading people his whole life, a habit he think developed from the bullying he suffered at school. He had to always be able to read Flash and his croonies and see what they intended to do to him that day, because it always depended on their mood. So he got exceptionally good at reading their faces, their body language and that ability only heightened when he gained his powers. His Spidey Sense helping him with this, so when Scorpion answered his question Peter could tell by the shifting of his body, the rolling of his shoulders that the statement wasn't exactly forthcoming. 

"... I preferred my space from before." He said quietly and carefully worded. He didn't want to tell Scorpion what to do, cause that wouldn't end well. The man did not like to be ordered around, and he could tell that was a point of contention in their motley little crew of evil as Doc Ock, the leader of said motley crew gave out orders almost exclusively. He also didn't want Scorpion to think he was desperate to leave this room because that would lead to suspicion of escape, which was of course on Peter's mind that very second. His likelihood of getting out would dramatically decrease if he stayed in that room. He couldn't see anything, no eyes on the enemy, and no way to start mapping out the warehouse. The room would seal his fate and he needed to convince his captor to aid in his escape unknowingly and willingly.

Scorpion looked him over, his eyes resting on the way Peter's hands knotted his blankets. 

"Hmm... I'll talk to the Doc and see what he says. You just rest up, okay?" It wasn't exactly the answer Peter was hoping for but it was better than a no. He nodded slightly, his eyes downcast to appear meek. He hoped it made him seem so, and he hoped that Scorpion would take the bait and plead his case to Doctor Octopus. "If you need to use the bathroom or anything, just knock on the door. Rhino is right outside, he'll help you." Scorpion said with a wave before he was out of the room, shutting the door behind him with a click of the lock. 

Peter listened for Scorpion's footsteps to fall quiet before he got out of the bed. His arm was still hooked up to the IV but this time it hung from an actual IV stand. Peter grabbed the stand to help support him as he climbed out of the bed. He was a bit shaky on his feet still and his vision reciprocated the feeling but he was no where near as bad as he was the night he lost it on Octavius. His healing was finally kicking in and it was only a matter of time till he was back to fighting form. 

He wondered what that would mean for him. Despite the Sinister Six treating him like a fragile doll he was not stupid to think they had forgotten what he was capable of, what he could do in his prime. They would want to keep him from reaching a 100% if they were smart, and Peter knew they were. He eyed the IV bag, his stomach queasy thinking of what kind of drugs they would put him on to keep him docile, submissive. Would they put him under entirely? 

Doc Ock said that they would protect him but that didn't necessarily mean they would let Peter live freely under their care. It only meant they would not harm him, and keeping him sedated in some way or another wouldn't physically harm him. He also had a suspicion that they had already sedated him and that was why his body felt the way it did. 

A few months ago Peter had punctured his spleen during a fight. It was the most pain he had ever felt in his life, even worse than what Doc Ock put him through, and he somehow managed to swing back to Avengers Tower before passing out on Tony's landing pad. He had awoken later to a doctor about to cut him open and before he could protest, cold liquid filled his veins and he was out before he knew it. When he awoke again, after the surgery, he felt the same heaviness and crummy vision as he did now. It was a side effect of waking up from the anesthesia. It didn't last terribly long, all he knew was that it made him feel weak and like shit. Tony had laughed out of good nature when he described the feeling to him, but mainly he laughed out of relief that Peter was okay. Thinking of Tony laughing hurt Peter. He couldn't think about Tony now, he needed to focus.

Peter knew he had to keep up the sick act as long as he could, he needed to put his acting skills to to the test, because the moment they realized he was better, that he was capable of fighting, it would be over for him and his plan.

But before he could start putting together an actual escape attempt he desperately needed to piss.

He pushed his IV stand over to the door, taking small slow steps even as his bladder screamed at him to hurry up. He didn't even pause before knocking on the door to steel himself, to perform for Rhino. He didn't need to act right now, he genuinely still felt like hot garbage. He would just be an open book with his emotions.

Rhino opened the door, his head lowered to look through the door frame at Peter. He stood so tall that he practically had to be on his knees to even look through the door. It would've made Peter laugh in different circumstances but his bladder demanded it be taken care of _quick_.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Peter said quietly, a light blush staining his cheeks. It always felt embarrassing to ask for the restroom, like he was a kid in school. Except he was asking men that had beaten him senseless and kidnapped him for their own strange shift of morals in the last minute... but you know the analogy still stands. 

Rhino simply nodded and stepped outside for Peter to come out. He pushed his IV stand forward, taking in a large breath. Even though he was still breathing in the same dusty air as his room, the air on the outside of the door felt significantly better. It felt lighter in a way.

The Rhino's hand came down to rest on Peter's shoulder, well more like the entirety of his back with the sheer size of it, and started guiding him gently down the hallway. Peter tried to take in his surroundings as quickly as he could without alerting Rhino to what he was doing. A million different doors lined the hallway, all closed, and not a single window was in sight. The pipes were even louder than before and Peter had a feeling that they were in the basement of the warehouse. It had an almost underground smell to it that he could faintly pick up.

Rhino led him further down, being careful not to rush Peter as he was still moving shakily, not quite up to walking for long yet. They turned right down the first hallway intersecting with the one they just came from and the bathroom sign for men and women came into view.

Rhino went to lean against the wall and gestured for Peter to go in, he would've normally been more puzzled by this because every time he used the bathroom before Rhino had gone in with him and stood outside the stall, which made the whole ordeal even that more humiliating and degrading, but Peter didn't think on it too long as he felt like he would piss his pants if he waited a minute more.

He went in, bee-lining for the urinal and let himself look around the bathroom as he relieved himself. There were no windows or other doors leading anywhere. 2 urinals, sinks, and stalls were the only things occupying the bathroom. And the bathroom was absolutely disgusting. Grime covered the urinals and dirt seemed endless, even climbing up the walls to sit on the ceiling. The smell was off putting to put it nicely, and Peter finished up quickly not wanting to stay in the bathroom long. Of course the sink had no soap so he just rinsed his hands as best he could before dejectedly grabbing his IV stand and exiting the bathroom. Even his prison cell was better accommodations than the bathroom. His stomach dropped slightly at the realization that the restroom would be no help to him in his escape attempt, at least nothing he could see yet. He would need to spend more time investigating the place but he couldn't afford to linger for long, not yet. He had to be smart about how much time he spent in there especially since he was allowed to go in alone. That was a valuable thing and not something he could squander on the first walkthrough.

He walked out, Rhino moving to stand and once again putting his hand on Peter's back to guide him back to his room. The hand felt foreign and wrong to Peter and he had to fight the urge to shudder at the touch. He didn't like how comfortable his enemies had gotten with touching him, but that was something he would have to accept if he wanted to lure them into a false sense of security. If they thought he was comfortable with them they would naturally lower their defenses and their own worries about Peter escaping. It would be the optimal time to put his plan into action. He would need to play the long-con, even if it made his skin crawl.

Rhino led him back to the room, opening the door for Peter. He froze at the sight of Doc Ock standing in his room, his half-hearted shuffle coming to a standstill. His chest tightened and his palms felt clammy. Worry gnawed at his lower lip and he hoped he didn't look as petrified as he felt. 

"Go on in, little spider." Rhino encouraged, pushing him slightly in. Peter didn't even think to fight against the nudge before the door was closed behind him and he was alone in the room with the leader of the Sinister Six.

Octavius stood composed before him, dawning his familiar mechanical limbs. They moved behind him but not dangerously or even in an agitated manner. They moved languidly about the room, seeming to almost inspect their surroundings. Octavius himself looked calm and collected, not a hair out of place but his goggles were back over his eyes. Peter hadn't seen him wear the googles since the day of the construction site battle. He didn't know why the doctor decided to wear them now but it definitely didn't help put Peter at ease. He felt like a rabbit caught in a trap waiting to be picked up by the hunter. His Spidey Sense buzzed unpleasantly at the back of his skull, warning him to tread lightly.

Doc Ock stared at him for a while before frowning slightly. "You look unsteady, come back to bed."

Annoyance spiked in Peter fast, but he crushed it down through gritted teeth. He remembered what Doc Ock had said to him about obeying. He would get certain privileges if he did so and he couldn't let his hatred for the man stop him from enacting his plan. He had to play the compliant hostage even though it made him sick to do so.

So Peter nodded, being the good kidnapped spider he was, and moved slowly back to bed. One of the doctor's arms helped him, lifting the covers for him as he crawled back under them, putting the IV stand back into its original position.

Octavius smiled at Peter's compliance, and anger simmered in Peter's veins as a wave of shame crashed over him. What would the Avengers think of Peter going along so willingly with his captors? Would they be disgusted by him? Disappointed? Would they understand?

He couldn't let those thoughts fester, not right now anyways, as he turned his attention back to his nemesis and tried to calm his growing anger. He needed to appear weak, sheepish, and _obedient_ if he wanted out of this room.

"How are you feeling?" The doctor asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, hand moving to cup Peter's face giving him a once over. 

Goosebumps rose on his skin, hating the feeling of Octavius' hand on his face but he bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snapping his head from the doctor's grasp. His ears turned red from embarrassment and fury.

"Uh... like heavy I think? Kind of like things aren't sharp." Peter answered as the doctor's hand moved to his forehead checking his temperature. The answer was true, Peter did notice his senses weren't as sharp as he was used to. It almost felt like he was a normal human again, before the spider bite, and in comparison to his new heightened senses everything now seemed dull. It was a relief in a strange way since his senses were prone to being over stimulated, but more importantly it was hindering. He relied on his senses more than anything as Spiderman and he would need them back quick to get out of the Sinister Six's clutches.

Doctor Octopus hummed, his fingers combing through Peter's hair just once before returning to his side. Out of his peripheral vision Peter could see his tentacle fixing the IV bag so it sat more settled on the stand. "Scorpion told me that was the way you described it. How did you feel walking earlier? You seem like you're still struggling a bit."

Peter glared, not liking being told he couldn't walk properly especially since it was _his_ fault Peter couldn't do so. His back still hurt and he didn't want to think long about any lasting damage he could suffer. He wanted to believe that his healing would fix him completely, he had no choice but for it to do so.

Normally he would snap at the doctor, quip at him, anything to get a rise out of his captor to show he wasn't going to play his game but the teenager swallowed those words and his pride along with it. "Um-still a bit shaky. I can't walk very fast... feel a bit unbalanced." He lowered his eyes to his blanket, his hands twisting it continuously. 

The doctor tapped his finger against his wrist, steady, as he was thinking how to answer. "That's to be expected, you're still not quite healed. It's taking longer than I initially calculated." Octavius' voice tapered off, eyes unreadable behind the googles but he stopped tapping his finger at the last sentence. 

"I'd like to take you off the pain medicine soon though," His mechanical arm tapped the IV bag. "It's hard to gauge your pain level, and in turn your injuries, with you on the medicine." Peter's eyes widened at that, he didn't think Doc Ock would be itching anytime soon to take him off. He honestly thought he would simply replace the medicine with something else to keep Peter's powers and abilities subdued. "It would be wise to take you off of it soon." He didn't elaborate about why but Peter knew painkillers were something only to take if you absolutely needed it. So he didn't need the doctor to convince him, he wanted off them asap.

"When will you take me off them?" He asked, voice hopeful, and he internally yelled at himself. He can't show Octavius how eager he was to be off the medicine, it would give him away. But if Doctor Octopus noticed he didn't say anything as he answered Peter's question, "I'd like to take you off of them after dinner. That way you can rest and ease into sleep tonight. The morning will be more telling of your pain level and we'll actively monitor it then to assess whether or not you need the painkillers."

Peter nodded, trying not to show too much excitement at the prospect of being free from the medicine. Of course he could've taken the IV out whenever he wanted to but it would just lead to him being hooked up again, and possibly for a longer period of time. 

Octavius looked at him in silence, clearly lost in his thoughts but Peter still squirmed uncomfortable under his gaze. It was disconcerting to be looked at in that manner especially since he couldn't see Doc Ock's eyes, he had taken for granted how much less sinister the doctor seemed without his goggles on. Now he seemed just as Peter always knew him to be. A man not to be trifled with.

"Scorpion told me you don't like this room, why?"

Peter squirmed further. He had to be smart, choose his words correctly. He couldn't afford to mess this up. 

"I-I feel claustrophobic in here." He stammered, curling in on himself trying to appear as small and non-threatening as possible.

"Claustrophobic?" The doctor's eyebrow raised above his googles. "You crawl through vents for a living and this room makes you feel claustrophobic?" He snorted, chuckling to himself.

Peter's ears grew even redder and indignation tinted his tone, "Hey! Th-that's not all I do! What is that? _Crawls through vents for a living?_ That's such a weird way to describe what I do as Spiderman!"

Doc Ock snorted even more, his chuckling growing louder. "But is it not true? I have seen you crawl through vents personally. They do call you _web crawler_ for a reason don't they?"

Peter spluttered, the blush dancing across his face now tinting his cheeks pink. "Yeah but that's not all I do! Oh my god, I do so much more than just crawl through vents. I've kicked your ass and locked you up dozens of times and I did it without a vent, thank you very much!" 

His blood ran cold and he froze. He shouldn't have said that but surprisingly the doctor just laughed instead. Peter's Spidey Sense died down as the doctor seemed to take the comment in stride and laughed along with the statement rather than getting angry at it. It was... surprising to say the least and Peter noted idly that he had never heard Doc Ock laugh genuinely before. Every laugh he had heard from the man had been a cliche evil genius laugh, but this laugh was light and airy. It was friendly, and it felt real. 

It sounded a bit like Tony's laugh and Peter couldn't help the small smile that graced his features at the thought of Tony's laugh. He forgot about the severity of his situation and he could've lived in this moment forever. But it came back to reality quick as Doc Ock's laugh died down and Tony's face was gone from his mind. His smile fell.

"Well alright, crawling through vents is not all you do but the question still stands as to how this room makes you feel claustrophobic but vents do not?" Octavius pressed, his own humor no longer in his voice.

Peter rubbed the back of his neck uneasy, "I dunno... I mean vents are different. I'm in and out quick so I don't gotta think about it, I guess. I'm not gonna be in and out of this room... so it feels smaller somehow." He looked away, surprised at the honesty of his words. He didn't really realize he also felt this way until he said them out loud. The room was more than just a barrier to his escape, it was moving slowly in and made him feel more trapped than he cared to admit. It made him feel out of control. 

Doctor Octopus gazed at him cooly, looking at him as if he were a rather interesting experiment, and it made Peter's skin crawl. He shivered despite himself and drew the blankets closer to his chest, disguising the shiver as him being cold.

"... I understand your... _unease_ with this room," the doctor said slowly, drawing Peter's gaze back onto him. "I thought you would have liked the privacy but clearly I didn't think about it enough." 

Peter's heart swelled with hope. 

"Give me your hand." 

Peter blinked.

"What?" He asked, completely dumbfounded by the command. 

The doctor simply stared at him, not repeating or clarifying his request. He held his palm open, waiting for Peter's smaller one. 

He was confused, why did Octavius want his hand, not to mention he was untrusting of the doctors motives but something clicked for Peter in that second. Doc Ock was testing him, to see if Peter was going to follow through on obeying the doctors orders. 

_"I won't repeat myself,"_ replayed in Peter's head. He looked at the doctor, the moment of some kind of camaraderie between them entirely dissipating as anger filled his gut again. But even though he was angry he only hesitated for a second before putting his hand in Octavius' own.

The doctor smiled wide, not warm or inviting. It was taunting and the urge to snatch his hand back had never been so strong before, but he fought it down. He needed to keep face even as his expression was failing him. He could feel the anger transforming his features but he didn't take his hand back. He left it in the doctor's hold even as the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. 

He could see one of the mechanical arms coming forward and to his horror a syringe was held in its claw. Fear crawled up his spine and he tugged at his hand slightly, mainly out of reflex. The doctors grip tightened and Peter couldn't help the whimper that fell past his lips. His eyes never left the syringe as the tentacles handed it over to the doctor's human arm, the one not holding Peter's hand. 

"Wh-what is that?" Peter asked, fearful, his eyes widening with a hint of panic behind them. 

"Be quiet," Octavius said, his mechanical limb gently grabbing Peter's chin to turn his head to face the doctor. "I'm going to let go of your arm. You are not going to take it back. You will not move as I give you this." Peter was shaking and he wasn't entirely sure if it was due to fear or due to rage. The doctor was testing him and with something Peter had no idea would do to him. The idea of it being a sedative shook him to his core and his fight or flight response was coming in quick. 

"Say yes if you understand."

Peter looked at the doctor, whose smile had fell and a seriousness washed over his face. He was waiting for Peter to decide.

Was he going to obey or not?

Peter swallowed, fury shining in his hazel eyes, and he felt true hatred in that moment for his enemy but instead of fighting he gave in. Because giving in was the way he would win in the end.

"Yes," He hissed. 

Octavius' smile returned, even more twisted than before and he released Peter's arm. Peter, himself, had to ignore every instinct screaming at him to snatch his arm away, to not let this monster inject him with something unknown but he pushed the instincts down. He quieted his Spidey Sense and his instincts as he screwed his eyes shut. He never could look at the needle going in.

The doctor gripped him at the elbow to keep his arm steady as he inserted the needle slowly into the crook of Peter's arm. He winced at the sensation but said nothing as the doctor pushed the liquid in. Once the syringe was empty the doctor removed the needle and Peter slowly opened his eyes. 

A little droplet of blood sat on his skin, saying, _"You're going to regret that."_ He lifted his eyes to Doc Ock who sat smug, the smile no longer as twisted but now looking like his usual condescending smile. 

"Good boy."

Peter's eyes narrowed and poison sat at the back of his throat waiting to be spat in the face of his enemy. His anger prickled under his skin, leaving him hot. His pride felt tattered as the doctor talked to him as if he were a dog, a dog that needed to be controlled.

"What was that?" He asked again through gritted teeth, his fists clenched, the nails embedding into his skin. If he kept pushing he would break the skin, but the pain was the only thing keeping him grounded and from attempting to beat the absolute living _fuck_ out of Doctor Octopus.

"Ah ah ah, good boys don't ask questions," Doc Ock said in a sing-song voice further riling Peter up.

The rational part of Peter's brain knew Octavius was pushing him. He was purposefully trying to make Peter angry, to see if Peter's emotions would overtake him. He wanted to see if Peter would truly obey especially when humiliated and beaten. And even though he logically knew what the doctor was doing it still did nothing to cool Peter's enraged state. 

But the logical part of him whispered in the back of his head, _"Don't lose it. Play along."_ and for once he listened, although begrudgingly. 

Peter snapped his mouth shut but didn't stop glaring at the doctor. He barely even noticed one of his tentacles cleaning the blood from Peter's arm and placing a bandaid over it. 

Octavius' smile grew, looking satisfied. "Good... very good, kid. It seems you remembered our conversation."

Peter said nothing, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from screaming. 

"I want you to say I will always obey." The doctor smirked, and Peter could feel the blood on his fingers from his nails pushing into his palm. The pain felt like the only real thing in that moment. 

How could he say that? How could he willingly submit to the man that had stolen him from everything and everyone he loved? All of the faces of his loved ones; May, MJ, Ned, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Bucky, Sam... Tony flitted across his mind and his resolve hardened at Tony's disappearing smile. If he ever wanted to see them again he needed to submit.

But only for now.

He swallowed harshly and said with venom in his throat, "I will always... obey."

He didn't look away from the doctor, wanting the man to understand he meant it even if Peter didn't actually. He had to make Doc Ock think he had won the battle if he wanted to win the war. Doc Ock stared back and smiled graciously, satisfied with Peter's words. 

"Good." He got off the bed, standing next to Peter's side, his arms still moving about the room as if looking for something. "I'm happy to see you are cooperating. I told you before that if you obey you will be allowed certain privileges... I will see to it that you are moved back to the other room you stayed in earlier. When Rhino collects you for dinner we'll move you then."

Peter still stayed tense on the bed, not showing any signs of gratitude. He was still shaking from anger and not ready to speak to Octavius yet, shame feeling clammy on the back of his neck.

Doc Ock frowned but didn't comment on the way Peter sat with himself. "I will see you for dinner... You did good today."

With that said the doctor turned on his heel and left. The door shutting loudly behind him with the click of the lock in place following shortly after.

Peter didn't unclench his fists until he was sure the doctor was definitely gone. He slowly unwrapped his fingers staring at the little crescents of blood sitting almost neatly on his palms. He stared at them as his shaking ebbed away, feeling like he was not in his own body. Hot tears fell onto the open wounds, stinging. Peter cried silently, no sobs or sounds to accompany it.

It was detached, empty, and broken. It didn't even really feel like him. He felt disassociated from himself as his body took control of the feelings his mind couldn't process.

He knew he had done what he needed to do, what he planned to do. He knew that it was the best tactic for escaping, the best route to getting home.

He knew all of it, but it didn't help to stop the shame spiraling his thoughts and making his body curl in on itself. It didn't stop the thoughts that a true hero would never bend, would never submit to their enemy.

A true hero would never give in. 

And what did Peter have left of himself in this place if not for the notion that he was the hero and they were the bad guys. If Peter wasn't a hero then he was just a victim. He was helpless. He was everything he worked the past 2 years to separate from, and it left a single feeling behind in his heart.

Hopelessness. 

He continued to cry, soundless and morose and feeling truly like the walls were closing in on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you all had a wonderful holiday!
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this chapter so I hope you guys enjoyed it ^^


	7. All the World

_“For you, in my respect, are all the world. Then how can it be said I am alone When all the world is here to look on me?”_ -Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Peter had scoured every last inch of his room, and this wasn't just a euphemism. He had scoured **every last inch.** He had checked the corners approximately twenty seven times. He looked under his bed approximately thirty three times. Hell he even moved every particle of dust on the floor to make sure it wasn't covering a secret trap door that led right to the underground of Avengers Tower.

Alright maybe the dust was making him a bit lightheaded, but the idea of a secret tunnel still sat firm in his mind. No one would expect it and that'd be the genius of it all!

He had walked the perimeter of the room approximately sixty nine times and he had to stop after that cause goddamn did he need to enjoy the little things in life right now. 

He knew from the bottom right corner it took him fifteen steps to reach the top right, from the top right it took him twelve steps to reach the top left, from the top left it took him fifteen steps to reach the bottom left and from the bottom left it took him thirteen steps to reach the bottom right. He had triple checked to make sure that was accurate and he had no idea how the bottom wall was longer than the top wall but that definitely didn't seem up to code. Only more reason to get out of there.

Peter knew logically he hadn't been left in the room for very long after Doc Ock took his leave but his anxiety was climbing every second he remained confined. He had spent some time simply laying on the bed, staring at a rather ugly splotch on the right wall and decided to get up once the splotch started to resemble MJ. He needed to clear his mind up before he started to _really_ think that splotch was in fact MJ. 

Peter had paced around his room too in order to not _think_ and to keep his blood pumping. The bandaid in the crook of his arm sat as a constant reminder of the unknown substance Doctor Octopus had forced upon him and to say Peter was freaking out about it was an understatement. He monitored his physical symptoms, looking for anything out of the ordinary, he really expected to have fallen asleep minutes after Doc Ock left but so far nothing had happened. And for some reason that was scarier than any symptom Peter could think of. He had to hold back a panic attack as his thoughts kept spiraling. The lack of fresh air and windows didn't help and he found the only thing that gave him some relief was sitting by his only source of light in the room.

The Sinister Six had oh so _graciously_ left some electric candles in the bottom right corner of the room so that Peter wasn't sitting in complete darkness, but they didn't do much to help the surrounding darkness from feeling suffocating and encroaching. He opted to spread the four candles out amongst the room, playing with them for a while till he was as satisfied as he could be with the set up. 

They still didn't emit much light but were starting to help fill the space as Peter's eyes adjusted to the darkness. Peter had noticed a small, _miniscule_ crack of light coming from the bottom right corner of the ceiling and his heart pounded in his ears. He quickly grabbed his IV bag off the stand, holding it in his teeth. He placed his fingertips to the wall and swiftly climbed up to the ceiling. He was quick in his excitement and was so close to the tiny shred of light that illuminated his face. It felt like the only thing that could possibly matter in that moment. But a thought wormed to the forefront, begging to be heard.

What if they were watching him?

Peter had slowed at that, just a breath's hair away from inspecting the crack, and with a grimace let himself fall. He hit the floor hard, pain shooting up his shoulder, and the wind promptly knocked out of him. He didn't even try to catch himself as that would give him away.

He was trying to make it look like he ran out of energy and fell. That he was too weak to handle wall climbing. If they were watching him, this was his only play at the moment. He almost felt like smacking himself for being so stupid, to assume they weren't watching him on some sort of feed. He only hoped they believed his ruse.

Martin Li came in a moment later, his face glowing hot white and it was the brightest light Peter had seen in a while. He hissed and shied away from it, shielding his scalding eyes. But as quickly as the light entered it disappeared as Martin Li stood normal before him, Mr. Negative gone for now. He crouched down by Peter, looking concerned but also suspicious as to why Peter was lying on the floor.

"Are you okay?" He asked curtly, helping Peter sit up and noticing how he clutched his shoulder, his eyebrows pinching together.

"Yeah," Peter grunted, trying to look as weak and feeble as possible. He held his shoulder, putting on a show, although his shoulder did really hurt but it was something that would heal quick. Nothing to concern himself over.

Martin helped Peter over to the bed and Peter complied, not once fighting the man. He crawled under the covers as Mr. Negative replaced his IV bag on the stand, and looked up to Martin Li studying him. 

"Why were you on the floor?" He asked tired, the bags under his eyes seemed to be even darker with the lack of light in the room.

Peter looked at him sheepishly, "I fell."

"Fell? From where?" Martin looked confused, his eyes giving the room a once over, looking for anything that Peter could've climbed on.

"Uh... the ceiling."

"The ceiling? How in the hell..." Martin looked up, eyes wide and Peter was confused as to why the man had a hard time believing that. They had seen him climb walls before as Spiderman. Did Martin hit his head or something? The man was looking at Peter like he didn't know who he was.

"You're not wearing your suit though, how did you climb the wall?" 

It was true. Peter was dressed in grey sweats, socks and a plain white tee. He didn't know when his suit had been removed and to be honest it wasn't a thought he wanted to linger on for too long. Call him crazy but the idea of his mortal enemies stripping him of his suit and seeing him in his Hulk boxers didn't exactly make Peter feel real strong and capable.

And then Peter realized that Mr. Negative had assumed his wall climbing abilities came from his suit and not Spiderman himself. And he also realized that might have been a good thing to have kept to himself, it could've been used as a surprise when he made his escape attempt. His blood ran cold as he mentally berated himself. He couldn't believe he didn't think about that.

But now the cat was out of the bag, there was no hiding his ability. 

"Uh... I don't need the suit to do that," He answered Martin but in his head he told himself, _"You are such a fucking moron. Why don't you tell your captors all of your Spidey secrets?? Might as well join the Sinister Six at this point you absolute fucking idiot."_

Martin stared at him, completely flabbergasted. "So, that's just something you can do?"

Peter opted for a shrug, looking away as embarrassment crept onto his cheeks staining them pink. Martin continued to stare at him but blessedly didn't push the topic. "How did you fall?"

Peter gripped his shoulder tighter, the pain seeming to pulsate at the question. "I-uh- thought I had enough energy but I guess not, my... body gave out." He winced, his shoulder pain flaring at the lie.

Mr. Negative hummed to himself, staring between Peter's eyes and his shoulder. "Okay... it should go without saying that you shouldn't be climbing walls, especially not in your condition. You'll never heal if you keep pushing yourself. Okay?" Peter nodded, not meeting Martin's eyes. Annoyance flashed across his face but he hid it quick. He had to play nice.

"Is your shoulder okay?" Martin asked quietly, and Peter snuck a glance at the man. Pure concern shined in his dark eyes, and Peter had only seen this side of Martin a few times before. Before he became Mr. Negative Martin Li ran a homeless shelter and Peter had seen him on the news talking about his work. He had always looked so passionate and concerned for the well-being of those staying at F.E.A.S.T. Peter had even been so inspired by him that he started to volunteer at the shelter during his very rare free time, which admittedly was not very often. He had only met Martin once at the shelter but the man had made Peter feel like the most important person in the room. He had even said to Peter, "Kids like you are going to turn this city around. You are the future, don't ever forget that," with the warmest and gentlest smile on his face. Peter knew he had a habit of looking up to men who showed him even the slightest bit of interest, he wasn't blind to his need for mentors in his life, but he thought in that moment that Martin could be one of the first men he looked up to who embodied everything it meant to be a hero, without the powers or the gadgets. He was someone this city truly needed. Just a normal person doing the right thing.

So when it was revealed Martin Li was actually Mr. Negative Peter felt his heart shatter. He felt broken but not betrayed by Martin. No it was quite the opposite. He felt that he had betrayed Martin, that he didn't see what was happening to the man. He had been so blinded by his admiration that he didn't know Martin Li was struggling with this force taking him over. He had missed all of the signs, and as he fought him in front of Manhattan's 55th precinct as Spiderman he knew it was too late to save Martin Li. He had been corrupted by Mr. Negative and would never be the same man that had told Peter he was the future of this city. 

But now looking at him, a familiar glimpse of the old Martin stood before him and Peter couldn't help the twinge that panged his heart. He didn't dare hope, but he let himself relax just the slightest bit.

"Y-yeah, it'll be fine," Peter mumbled, looking away from Mr. Negative. 

Martin didn't look like he believed Peter, "Hmm maybe the doctor should check it out."

Peter's eyes widened, panicked. He whipped his head back. "No!" He said a little too loudly, Martin's eyes widened themselves, surprised at the outburst. Peter had startled himself too with his shout but the fear was clawing fresh at the base of his skull and he couldn't stop himself from saying it in time. He did _not_ want to see Octavius, did not want to see the man's demented smile as he pumped Peter full of some other unknown drug. He didn't think he could handle that, not right now anyways. "I-I'm fine I swear. You don't need to bother him with this," Peter stammered, pushing an uneasy smile on his face, hoping to convince Martin Li he really was okay.

Martin stood there rigid, looking at the flustered teen and Peter knew the man did not buy his act for a second. His heart dropped, he was going to have to face Doctor Octopus sooner than he wanted to.

"Is it okay if I look at your shoulder instead?"

Well, maybe not so soon after all.

It was the first time one of his captors had actually asked Peter for permission before they touched him. He was still no fool to think he could decline the offer, it wasn't one made genuinely, but a strange part of him appreciated the illusion of control Mr. Negative presented him.

He paused for a moment before nodding timidly, letting his hand drop from his shoulder wordlessly. Martin sat on the edge of the bed, hands moving tenderly over Peter's sore appendage. He only winced a little as Martin moved the sleeve up to get a better look. He guided Peter's shoulder around gently, asking him if it hurt at each movement. He answered honestly each time and after a few minutes, Martin placed his arm down and stood. "I'm no medical expert but I don't think it's dislocated. It's probably just bruised, but keep an eye on it. Let one of us know if the pain changes."

"Okay, thank you."

Peter froze but the words already left his lips. He had done the thing he said he wouldn't. _Thank_ the men who stole him, who locked him up like a fucking animal. Who pumped him full of drugs and kept him docile and under control. The very men he had been so goddamn _compliant_ for that they barely needed to do anything at all to keep him that way. 

He felt sick, and could feel the plan that was always humming in his skull start to quiet. The voice saying, "Play along," became nothing more than a whisper and he could feel a rumbling in his bones encouraging him to do the very thing he should've done from the very start.

**Resist.**

Martin Li, unaware of Peter's internal struggle offered him a small smile. "You're welcome... one of us will be back to collect you for dinner soon. We'll move your bed back upstairs then too."

This snapped Peter out of his thoughts, staring at the villain. He had almost forgotten about Doc Ock's promise, he'd be moved if he listened to the Sinister Six. If he did as they said. No, he couldn't fuck this up he couldn't let a stupid slip of the tongue unravel all he was working for.

The pain in his shoulder spiked for a second as he moved it slightly and it was a reminder for him to not let his emotions rule him. To stick to the plan. He wasn't strong enough to fight... not yet. He needed to be smart. Tony would want him to be smart about it for once in his life, just like Tony had been when he was kidnapped in Afghanistan with men that didn't care about Tony's wellbeing. With men that planned to kill Tony the moment he finished building their weapon.

If Tony could escape that, Peter could escape this. There wasn't even a comparison on whose situation was worse. 

His resolve hardened once again. He needed to remain calm and collected. This was not the time to wallow in his own pity for a slip of the tongue.

But even with all of that swirling in his head his body still rumbled low and heavy, now humming alongside his thoughts. A parallel line of thinking that he couldn't let merge. 

**Play along** and **Resist**

He watched Martin Li leave the room as he battled internally within himself about which of the lines he would follow. He could only hope he chose correctly.

\-------------------------------

Scorpion had returned with dinner a few minutes ago and Octavius sent Vulture to collect Peter. He would send Rhino down after to collect the bed. He gave Vulture firm instructions to blindfold and deafen Peter. Vulture had looked at him, confused at the instructions, and asked him, "Why is that necessary?"

Doctor Octopus thought it should go without saying that until Spiderman could be trusted it'd be best he didn't know the layout of the base but clearly his comrade was not on the same wavelength as him. The Vulture had nodded at the explanation and grabbed a piece of cloth and some noise canceling headphones before heading down to the basement to collect the hero, but not without Octavius catching the rolling of his eyes and the grumbling under his breath.

Vulture had always been lazy when it came to taking extra precautions, something Doc Ock wouldn't stand for. Not when something as important as keeping Peter safe was on the line.

Scorpion and Electro had set up the tables and were spreading the mix of Chinese food around, easy to grab from any angle. Normally the villains didn't eat all together, seeing as they each had their own shifts to watch Peter and collect information from the outside world. Doc Ock was attempting to keep tabs on the Avengers movements but so far had only proved mildly successful. They were being more secretive than normal and it set the whole team on edge.

Each member worried when they left the warehouse for a supplies run or information gathering, wondering if today would be the day the Avengers figured them out but so far that day had not come.

So Doc Ock decided they could afford to all gather together for a meal just this once and of course it was important for Doc Ock's plan that Peter joined them.

He knew logically that he couldn't keep the boy obedient out of fear alone... it was not a sustainable solution. He should know from his time in the Raft that no prisoner stays compliant forever. Men were not meant to be shackled, to be controlled, and Spiderman was no different than them in that regard. He needed to get the boy comfortable, to not view the Sinister Six as a threat. He needed Peter to choose obedience on his own, and he hoped for sooner rather than later.

Spiderman was getting stronger everyday. He still was no where near completely healed but Doc Ock did notice the strength slowly coming back. Martin had told him about Peter's wall climbing shenanigans but it didn't come quite as a shock to Octavius as it did to Martin. He suspected the boy's wall climbing abilities were his own and didn't come from Stark's suit for a while, but he was never quite sure until Mr. Negative proved his theory correct. It wasn't a shock but it wasn't good news either. Octavius didn't know the extent of the boy's abilities and was sure Peter would not share that information with him willingly. He had to be prepared for anything. Although the boy is injured, and no doubt going through shock still, he never knew Spiderman to dwell on his shortcomings for long. He _always_ found a solution to a problem, no matter what.

Octavius just had to convince Peter that being with them wasn't a problem, which was definitely easier said than done.

The dinner was the first step in the right direction. He had already informed his team that Peter would be joining them and this was the time to convince him they weren't men to fear, but rather men to trust. He didn't say this aloud to them but the thought hung heavy in their hearts and they knew it was also the time to come to terms with everything they had done to Peter as Spiderman. Every attack, every injury, every threat would truly face them during this meal. They would need to confront the fact that they had hurt this small hero in over a million ways imaginable and were asking for him to give them a second chance. A chance none of them were quite sure they deserved but needed nonetheless.

Because even if Peter never forgave them it didn't matter. They would let the teenager hate them, as long as he was out of harm's way.

Electro and Scorpion finished setting the food up as Vulture returned with a blindfolded Peter. Octavius spotted the earbuds in his ears and smiled at the scowl on Spiderman's face, clearly he wasn't a fan of the song blasting in his eardrums.

Vulture removed the earbuds and Spiderman said with all the annoyance a 16-year old could muster, "Really? _Neil Young_ that's the guy you thought would be fitting to make my ears bleed! You may have forgotten but I'm not a 65 year old man so I don't exactly enjoy Neil Young."

Vulture rolled his eyes removing the blindfold next, Peter blinking owlishly at the adjustment to the lighting. "And yet somehow you know who Neil Young is."

Peter's scowl deepened, "Well everyone knows who he is! I don't live under a rock, but I'm not exactly secretly jamming out to him in my room every night if you catch my drift."

"Yeah well keep it up and I'll have a whole playlist of Neil Young queued up forever. You'll never have a moments rest," Vulture snapped, although he looked more exasperated than truly angry. Peter paled at the threat breathing out, "You wouldn't." Vulture's temple throbbed, "I could and I would so don't test me."

"You basta-" Peter started to growl before Scorpion broke up the conversation with his laughter, echoing off the warehouse walls. Electro had joined in the ruckus with his own laughter, electricity sparking out of his hair with each chuckle.

The laughter seemed to bring Peter back to reality and the playful nature with Vulture disappeared quickly. His face once again wary and looking at the villains with unease. Doc Ock frowned. It wasn't the desired outcome of the interaction but it was good to see Spiderman's playful side was still there. They would just need to bring it out.

Rhino came up the stairs, carrying the bed easily in his hand, as if it were one in a doll house rather than a normal full sized bed. He looked to Electro and Scorpion still laughing and asked, "Why are they laughing?"

"No reason," Doc Ock waved him off and Scorpion and Electro started to quiet down. "We were just about to eat, everyone come sit."

Rhino put the bed down with ease and made his way to the table, three chairs had been pushed together just for him as he got his own side of the table. He was much too big to have anyone sit next to him comfortably.

Scorpion, Martin, Li, Electro, and Doc Ock sat in their respective chairs. They looked over to Vulture and Peter seeing the latter of the two standing there quite confused as to what was happening.

"C'mon kid, let's go eat." Vulture pushed him forward and Peter stumbled slightly to the table, grabbing the chair that sat him right between Vulture and Electro. His confusion grew as he realized they wanted to eat dinner with him. "We... we're eating together?" He asked dubious as he watched all of the villains reaching across the table for the respective food they wanted.

"Yes, are your eyes still adjusting from the blindfold?" Octavius asked, a smirk settled on his face as his mechanical arms moved about the table grabbing the food their master desired.

Peter's eyes crinkled with annoyance, looking even younger than he normally did. It was rather endearing if Octavius was honest with himself. "No... I'm just surprised is all."

"Ya know we do eat together kid, we're not like some weirdos that eat alone all the time," Scorpion said around a mouthful of sweet and sour pork. Shoveling food into his mouth at an alarming rate. "Scorpion have some manners," Martin said, disgust clearly written all over his face, "And save some food for the rest of us."

Scorpion cackled, "You gotta be fast if you wanna eat."

Doc Ock watched Peter's reactions, the boy seemingly frozen in his seat looking around at the whole affair as if it was a circus in town. Wonderment filled his eyes as he watched his greatest enemies share banter that wasn't about trying to kill him for once.

Rhino reached over the table and put some sesame chicken onto Peter's plate. "Eat little spider, before Scorpion eats it first."

Scorpion cackled, "He's got a point kid! Eat up now if you wanna eat, I ain't waiting on you." He grabbed another spring roll, eating it one singular bite. Everyone at the table made a face at that, including Peter. It was definitely like a circus, they even performed party tricks.

Peter picked up his chopsticks and ate slowly, still wary of the food in front of him even with seeing his enemies eating it with abandon. They grabbed from the same dishes as his food came from so soon enough his suspicious nature gave way as he started to eat. 

The Vulture noticed Spiderman eyeing the choy mein and quickly grabbed it from Scorpion's grasp to give some to Peter. He dumped it onto his plate as he asked, "So kid since you clearly lack musical taste I'm curious what music you think is _good_."

"Lack musical taste?" Peter said between bites of the choy mein. Damn that was good, even he had to admit. "What are you on about? My music taste is impeccable!"

The food filling his belly was leaving him warm and unguarded, and the weird energy of the table actually made him feel more comfortable than he cared to admit. The odd question tossed out by Vulture left him off guard and he found he was actually bantering with the man earnestly.

Vulture snorted, "Impeccable? I dare say not if Neil Young isn't even on there."

"I ain't a fan of Neil Young either," Electro piped up, taking big slurps of his wonton soup. "The man has no charisma nowadays. He's old news!"

"Old news?" Vulture asked, incredulous, food forgotten for the moment. "Would you say that about Michael Jackson? The Beatles?? Old news my ass. They are iconic and so is Neil Young!"

"Neil Young, iconic?" Scorpion laughed, "Yeah right! You can't be comparing the Beatles and Michael Jackson to Neil Young! That's sacrilegious!"

"What does this have to do with religion?" Martin asked quietly, confused at the conversation happening before him.

"Yeah well, you can't say much when you listen to Destiny's Child still," Vulture huffed, clearly feeling annoyed at the combined attack on his music taste. He thought they were supposed to be teasing the kid goddammit.

" _Hey!_ Destiny's Child is iconic, are you kidding me??" Scorpion yelled, forgetting his own food for the moment. The rest of the team, besides Vulture, took advantage and grabbed as much as they could so that Scorpion wouldn't have a chance to eat it. "You really gonna be sitting there talking shit when Destiny's Child made _Say My Name_. I will not stand for Destiny's Child slander! Kid back me up," Scorpion barked looking to Peter.

Peter himself looked unprepared for the conversation to once again include him and sat there wide-eyed unsure of what to say. He spluttered for a moment but gave no definitive answer, Doc Ock sensing that he was uncomfortable with speaking spoke instead, "Scorpion no one is slandering Destiny's Child, let alone to a grown man who should not care this much about a disbanded group, and Vulture Neil Young is fine but he isn't iconic, okay?"

Both Vulture and Scorpion turned on Octavius and began yelling at him about his interruption. As the men continued to bicker Peter couldn't help the confused laugh that fell out of his lips. He had absolutely no idea what the fuck was happening.

Something prickled at the back of his neck and his Spidey Sense flared to life. He jumped out of his chair whipping around staring up at a corner of the ceiling. His eyes stared unblinking at the area but nothing was there. His senses couldn't pick up on anything and his Spidey Sense died down, only slightly tickling the back of his skull now. He had no idea why it happened but he could've _sworn_ something was watching him from the corner. Whatever it was it seemed to be gone for now, he sighed trying to calm his nerves and went to sit back down. He realized then the entire table had fallen completely silent at his sudden jump, staring intently at him. Doc Ock's arms had come to settle at the back of Peter's chair, ready to grab him if he tried to run. The air of the room could be cut with a knife and Peter gulped.

He slowly sat back down in his chair and looked at his plate mumbling out a, "Sorry."

"What was that?" Vulture asked, his mirth from before completely gone as he stared at Peter disconcertingly. He wasn't quite sure what to make of the spectacle.

"J-just some pain in my leg, it surprised me. Sorry, sort of a muscle spasm," Peter lied and hoped, no _prayed_ they bought it. He didn't know if they knew about his Spidey Sense or not but he had to assume they didn't. He had to hold that card close to the vest. It was the one thing he had left they were potentially unware of about his abilities. 

His enemies stared at him and he played with the hem of his shirt nervously and just when he thought they wouldn't buy it Electro said, "I get those sometimes myself so I know what ya mean. Can be real annoying." 

The tension in the room lifted and the villains fell back into easy conversation with each other. Peter breathed out a sigh of relief but noticed Doctor Octopus staring at him out of his peripheral vision. He knew the doctor didn't believe his lie but he hoped he didn't know what to make of the situation either. He would just have to convince him later that the muscle spasm was the truth, because if he couldn't that was another thing the doctor could use against him.

He continued to eat, ignoring the doctor's obvious gaze, and told Rhino he liked listening to SZA when the larger man asked. This had started a whole new conversation about music that lasted well into the night and by the time dinner had finished Peter was ready for bed.

He could already feel his eyes drooping as the men cleaned up the plates, no food to be leftover thanks to Scorpion, and Rhino helped Peter to bed as the rest gathered the dishes. It felt good to be able to sleep back in the open space even if it was more open to his enemies. He was under the covers in no time, already nestling his head into the pillows that were growing less musty smelling by the day and his eyes were nearly closed when Doc Ock approached him.

He looked up to the man, the slow crawl of fear inching its way over his skin and the doctor's smile from earlier that day stayed imprinted on the back of Peter's eyelids. He didn't want to be alone with him.

"Tired?" The man asked, a small smile on his face. Peter simply mumbled out a "yeah" not wanting to talk with the doctor further. He tried to close his eyes to show Octavius he wasn't in the mood, but the covers were taken off Peter's upper torso.

He looked at Doc Ock, confused, before the doctor clarified. "I need to remove the IV from your arm. I'm gonna take you off the painkillers."

Peter had almost forgotten about that. He felt trepidation at handing over his arm once again to the man, the clear syringe still fresh in his mind, but he figured Octavius would be true to his word and simply just take the IV out and not inject Peter with anything further. He sat up and held his arm forward with the needle in it. The doctor said nothing as he swiftly removed the needle, cleaned out the wound, and placed a bandaid over the mark. He absentmindedly noted that the bandaids he adorned were Avengers bandaids... he didn't know if it was supposed to be a joke or not.

"We'll see how your pain is in the morning. For now, get some rest." Doc Ock said, patting Peter's head and rubbing it almost affectionately. Peter's skin crawled and his mood soured but he said nothing as he laid down in bed pulling the covers over him once more.

He closed his eyes so he no longer had to look at Octavius and quickly fell asleep to the background sounds of the Sinister Six cleaning up their dinner. A background noise that he never thought he would hear.

_________________

Mysterio sat in his chair, twirling a twizzler between his fingers. His dome sat besides his monitor on the desk, reflecting the blue light from the screen and casting Quentin's face in a ghastly glow. He took a bite out of the twizzler watching the video feed before him. 

He couldn't help the smile that twisted his features as he stared into the eyes of a teenager looking directly at him. The eyes were steely and knowing, and Mysterio's smile grew. He may have never seen those eyes before but he knew who they belonged to.

He had been watching the Sinister Six have dinner with a child, a _child_ of all people and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. Why did they have this kid? Who the hell was he?

During their meal Beck had pulled up all of the information he could on the kid. Within minutes he had the life story of this teenager splayed out before him. Peter Benjamin Parker, age 16, goes to Midtown Science, orphaned, lives with his Aunt, Uncle died a few years ago from a mugging gone wrong. Nothing about this kid screamed extraordinary but when he found a photo of Peter standing next to Tony Stark, a big grin on his face he realized he may be more special than he thought.

Had his fellow villains kidnapped one of Stark's interns to keep the Avengers off their back? It seemed likely although Mysterio had a nagging doubt that wasn't why. He didn't know Doctor Octopus beyond formalities but the man didn't seem to be in the business of kidnapping random interns. If he was going to kidnap anyone it would be Stark's lady, Pepper Potts. He would want to hit Stark where it hurt and even if Stark had some kind of relationship with this intern it still wouldn't do enough damage to keep the Avengers from pressing on them too heavily.

But as Mysterio was puzzling as to why this kid could be important, Peter had jumped out of his seat like a shot and whipped around to stare right at the drone Beck had given Vulture. He checked the controls quickly to make sure he hadn't accidentally revealed the drone but everything was in order. It would've been bad for him if any of the Sinister Six realized he was tapping into the feed, that he still controlled the drones completely. Even the drones wouldn't be able to protect him from their wrath.

But as he stared back into set hazel ones his smile finally cracked into a maniacal grin. He figured out who Peter was.

The boy seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and rejoined the table, apologizing for his sudden movement. After a few tense moments the crew resumed talking and everything seemed to be back to normal.

But Mysterio knew that this was far from _normal_ and he loved situations that were anything but.

"Well _Spiderman_ it seems you haven't gone too far after all." Beck finished his twizzler, eyes glued to the monitor for the rest of the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Hope you liked this chapter ^^


	8. The Great City

_“Troy has perished, the great city. Only the red flame now lives there. The dust is rising, spreading out like a great wing of smoke and all is hidden. We now are gone, one here, one there. And Troy is gone forever. Farewell, dear city. Farewell, my country, where my children lived. There below, the Greek ships wait.”_ -Homer, The Iliad

A few days had passed since his first dinner with the Sinister Six and subsequently since he had been taken off the painkillers. The first day off the meds had been rough to say the least. He hadn't quite realized how much the meds had been helping until they were gone. The morning he woke up he felt like he had been bulldozed by Rhino. Every part of his body ached and his back was the worst of it all. He didn't get out of bed, except to use the bathroom, which was an ordeal in and of itself, and had to take his meals in bed. The doctor thought about putting him back on the meds but Peter had insisted staying off them even though he regretted it every time he declined. He had a feeling that the meds were actually inhibiting his natural healing process, he needed to have a few days of intense pain before he could start to feel like himself again.

Yet even knowing that, it still sucked ass. 

He was miserable, every shift of his body brought blinding pain that rang out like the bells of Notre Dame, and he had to blink back tears each time. It was truly the first time he realized how bad Doc Ock had injured him and the thought sat cold in his stomach each time he saw the doctor's face. Thankfully he didn't see the doctor too long as each of his captors took turns spending time with him.

He was starting to get more familiar with each of their personalities during his little one-on-one sessions with them.

Scorpion loved to talk... well more like Scorpion loved the sound of his own voice. He talked to Peter non-stop each time he sat with the teenager. Peter had even grown concerned at one point as it seemed Scorpion never took a breath as he yapped away. It was like the man didn't need to breathe and Peter thought what a sight it would be to watch a man suffocate himself just from sheer narcissism alone. He had smiled at the thought and Scorpion had snapped at him for smiling while he told Peter about his time in the Raft, thinking the boy was making fun of his prison time. Peter had simply muttered out a quick sorry but the smile never left his face during the whole conversation, leaving Scorpion heated. It made Peter feel better that he could in small ways still get under his enemies skin. He did miss doing that. His "chats", more like one-way conversations, always left Peter tired and he found that the sound of Scorpion's voice actually lulled him to sleep on more than one occasion, but for as much as the man hated Peter not listening to his stories he never once brought up Peter falling asleep during them. He pondered if that had been Scorpion's goal with these talks was to put Peter to sleep so that his body could rest. He wasn't quite sure, but one thing was definitely for certain, Scorpion had an endless well of stories and had chosen Peter as his victim to bore him to death, and so far it was working.

Electro could talk as well but he was definitely more of a man of action. He would put on what could only be described as light shows for Peter. The electricity flowed freely around him as he would do tricks around the room, playing with the way the electric balls could roll across the floor and jump back into his hand. Peter could only compare it to Captain America throwing his shield, angling it just right so that it always returned to his hand. Watching Electro perform the same moves as Steve brought a solemnness to the performance and Electro had noticed Peter's dour mood. He quickly changed trajectory and starting to blow things up, empty cardboard boxes, bottles, whatever he could find laying around the warehouse. The first time he had exploded a glass bottle Peter had jumped at the sound and was left curled in on himself as pain sparked everywhere. Electro had fussed around him, profusely apologizing at startling him and had from then on opted to warn Peter each time he planned on igniting something. The hero appreciated the sentiment and he didn't have quite the heart to tell Electro that he didn't really find any enjoyment in the light shows, but the man seemed to enjoy performing so Peter let him continue on. It was still preferable to Scorpion's "conversations".

Mr. Negative was the oddest one to spend time with. He would sit with Peter in near silence for most of the time, either reading a book, or writing in a journal. Usually Martin would be the one to spend time with Peter after Scorpion so the silence was incredibly welcomed. Peter would doze during those times or stay lost in his own thoughts as the only sound was Martin's page turning or scribbling. But Peter was not a quiet person by nature and eventually the itch to have some kind of noise would grow. Silence never sat well with him for long, so soon enough he found himself asking Mr. Negative questions just to add some sound to the room. He would ask about the book he was reading or what he was writing. Martin never shared any of his writings with Peter and he surmised they must be private so he didn't push on the topic, but he would talk about his book. He knew the man liked to read nonfiction, which had never been Peter's type of entertainment. He was a Star Wars nerd after all, sci fi and fantasy always appealed to him, but he liked the way Martin talked about his books. He was currently reading one about a young reporter from America who snuck into North Korea pretending to be an English teacher all the while taking notes of everything she learned about the secretive North Korean government. It was actually quite fascinating and Peter has asked if Martin would read him some of the story. Martin had been surprised at the request but after a few of their one-on-ones Peter realized he would start reading to him unprompted. The story was amazing and Peter told Mr. Negative at one point that he had a really pleasant voice and could narrate books if he wanted. Martin had blushed at that, telling Peter to be quiet as he read, but the small, unabashed smile on the villains face did not go unnoticed by Peter.

Vulture would fiddle with his wings during his time with Peter. He had a makeshift tool cart he would wheel to the foot of Peter's bed and work on his mechanical wings. The sound of clanking metal and turning gears reminded him of times he spent working with Tony in his workshop. Just before the incident at the construction site Peter had been in Tony's workshop working on modifying his web shooters. He liked working with Tony in his lab, the talkative genius was uncharacteristically quiet during those sessions. His nose was so buried in his work he would sometimes forget Peter was even in the same room as him. It was the only time Peter actually enjoyed the silence as they tinkered with their respective weapons. He felt more like an equal in those moments with Tony than he ever did otherwise. Every time they were outside of the workshop Tony was the leader of the Avengers, the unbending Ironman, and Peter was the kid Tony had taken under his wing. Nobody, not even civilians who didn't know their dynamic personally, thought of Ironman and Spiderman as equals. Ironman was clearly the superior hero in all aspects, but in those private, quiet moments in the workshop it wasn't Ironman and Spiderman, it was Tony and Peter, both respective genius' and comrades. He missed those moments now more than ever as he listened to Vulture tinker with his own weapons. He didn't talk to Vulture during his time, too wrapped up in his memories of Tony, until the man would put on his music and Peter had to beg him to please stop playing Neil fucking Young. It was bad enough he was already bed ridden, now he was being tortured too. Vulture always gave him a hard time but Peter could see the smirk on his face. He was trying to get Peter talking, and it always worked.

Rhino was the easiest to spend time with in Peter's opinion. The large man would bring out a comically small TV, small even to Peter, and play different Russian movies and shows. It was the only true entertainment Peter got and he ate it up. He had no idea what was happening most of the time, but he watched the shows entirely engrossed in the stories. During this time Rhino was quiet, absorbed in the shows himself, but when a particular word popped up that he felt needed an explanation he would teach Peter what the Russian word meant in English. Peter was confused at first as Rhino looked at him, waiting for something but soon enough Peter picked up that Rhino was actually trying to teach Peter some Russian. He would say the word back and Rhino would simply shake his head until Peter got the pronunciation correct. Rhino would then nod and turn back to the program. This continued each time they spent together and Rhino had even said the last time he was with Peter that his Russian was improving. Peter had felt a strange swell of pride at that but didn't linger on the emotion for long, it was strange to be praised by his enemies and to _like_ it, so he fought it off, not wanting to feel anything at Rhino's statement.

Doctor Octopus was the hardest to spend time with... yes even more than Scorpion. Out of all the Sinister Six Doc Ock put Peter on edge the most. The man was cunning and sadistic, two qualities that shouldn't go together. Doc Ock would talk science with Peter and it became apparent after a few sessions that he was probing Peter for information about himself and his abilities. Peter had immediately clammed up upon the realization, not wanting to play into the doctor's hands. Doc Ock himself came to terms with his own mistake and backed off the subject, instead talking about things he and Peter could relate to. He talked about the mechanics of his arms, how he made them and would ask Peter what he would do differently if he made them. Peter, having learned his fair share of mechanics from self-study and Tony, made some comments here and there about what he thought but never giving away too much. He didn't want to inadvertently help the doctor improve his arms, even he wasn't as stupid as to fall for that. Octavius had tried several different topics to engage Peter but the boy simply wouldn't open up to him and it was aggravating. Peter could tell how frustrated the doctor was with each of their meetings, growing more agitated at the stagnant relationship between them. Peter himself had felt smug about it, loving the way he got under the doctor's skin just like Scorpions, but during one of their sessions Martin had been sitting at the table just behind the doctor and asked, "What's a ten letter word for pair of chromosomes but not identical?" Peter and Doc Ock answered simultaneously, "Homologous." The doctor then got a glint in his eye and their next session he had brought a science crossword puzzle for them to do. Peter had refused to participate at first but boredom was a true bitch and the doctor pretending to play dumb at the crossword puzzle had him spitting out the answers in annoyance. This went on for a while and Peter didn't know when his answers stopped being ones out of annoyance and ones out of actual interest in the puzzle. He didn't even catch himself starting to look forward to the doctor's visits, it was a change in him that was gradual. He only noticed it when he caught himself laughing at one of Octavius' jokes and the realization hit him fast.

He knew what Stockholm Syndrome was, hell he was sure every kid knew about it just cause some little weasel of a 10-year old told you at one point, "You know Beauty and the Beast is about Stockholm Syndrome right?" and proceeded to ruin one of the beloved movies from your childhood. He also knew that just because you were _aware_ of Stockholm Syndrome didn't mean you weren't susceptible to it. Sometimes it only takes a few days before the victim starts to experience the symptoms of Stockholm Syndrome. Peter didn't know if he was experiencing symptoms or not but he came to realize the idea of escaping hadn't even entered his mind in the past few days. 

He blamed that partly on the pain, being bed ridden and unable to move without wanting to tear your skin off could put a damper on anyone's escape plans, but he knew it was also due to the time he was spending with his captors. None of them had threatened him, pumped him full of drugs, or even gave him an order. Even when he was refusing to speak with Doc Ock the man never told him to do so otherwise, he never commanded Peter and held a threat over his head. The perceived lack of danger had put Peter at ease and made him more comfortable with his situation. He was growing complacent and the thought was like a cold bucket of water dumped over his head. It woke him up fast. The dream was over and reality was setting in.

He wasn't safe. He was a prisoner. And he wouldn't be safe until he escaped these men.

The growing reality sat with Peter like a festering wound, open and raw, making him feel ill. The wound was most painful in the middle of the night. He would wake at odd hours, darkness encasing him with the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. His Spidey Sense thrummed sharp and sudden, like an oncoming headache, urging him to be _aware_ , but aware of what Peter couldn't tell. His eyes would search the expanding darkness, lingering on the corners of the ceiling, feeling that something was there.

He felt like he was in a horror film, waiting for the monster to pop out from the shadows, but nothing ever did. It remained empty and the unknown was worse than the idea of the monster coming to tear him to shreds. After a few nights of this Peter knew that there had to be something there. His Spidey Sense was not always accurate but for it to be this constant, stirring him awake, he knew it was telling him something Peter couldn't quite decipher yet.

The closest he had come to touching the invisible monster was when he was suddenly pulled from his waters into consciousness, and before he had time to think his arm swatted the air in front of him. His hand came into contact with empty air but something about the way the air moved around his fingertips told him a different story.

The wind almost felt like it pushed against something from his momentum and Peter knew truly he wasn't alone in the room. Cold sweat ran from his temple to the nape of his neck and he was breathing hard, feeling like he had been socked in the gut. Electro had heard Peter's movement and came into the room, giving off a light glow from his electrical pulses. Electro had fussed over the boy, wondering what was wrong but Peter had played it off, simply saying he had a bad dream. It didn't take much to convince Electro he was fine before the man walked off, leaving Peter with the darkness again.

He laid there for a time, refusing to close his eyes, scared of what would happen once he did. He listened intently, picking up every movement, he could even hear a cockroach scurrying across the floor but no sign of his invisible friend remained. Hell Peter wasn't even sure the invisible force was _real_ , there was no evidence to suggest it, nothing concrete to suggest he was being watched.

But Peter knew in his gut that his instinct was never wrong and his instinct was screaming at him that there was something there, lingering... and waiting.

And Peter didn't want to stick around long enough to find out what it was waiting for. The time to escape was now. In a few days he was going to put his plan into action.

The key part to his plan was still feigning pain. It had to be perfect, he couldn't pretend too much cause then the doctor would grow suspicious and probably put Peter back on the pain meds which would dull his senses and fatigue him. He also couldn't show that he was practically at full strength. His bed rest had done him wonders and he could feel the familiar strength coursing through his veins, the same strength that would aid him immensely in the coming days. When he was in the bathroom alone, he would do simple exercises to loosen up his muscles, to test his capabilities. While he was certainly a little rusty from weeks of bed rest he knew if it came down to it he could get right back into the swing of things, his senses would guide him like they always did in a fight.

He had to show just the right amount of pain to convince the Sinister Six that he was still weak... that was the most important part of his plan. If they believed him to be weak there was no reason to keep under constant surveillance. He found, especially when they thought him to be asleep, they would leave him alone in the room. Of course they were never too far as shown by Electro running into the room the other night, but if Peter was quiet he had a chance to sneak away before they even knew he was gone.

They had grown complacent around him, and it needed to stay that way. Peter had willingly done everything they asked, throwing in the occasional insult or quip so they didn't get too suspicious about his sudden change of heart. But he could see it in their eyes, how desperately they wanted Peter to choose to stay of his own violation. They wanted it so bad that they bought into Peter's act, not once questioning it. They thought they had won him over.

He would've thought that the liar amongst them would be New York's very own web slinger.

Peter had started to map out a possible escape route. So far he had only been allowed to go to the bathroom, where he was always accompanied by someone. Unlike the basement bathroom the one upstairs had a window, of course also boarded up. He had already ruled out the window, it would take far too long to take off the boards and escape. He also had no idea if the window even led anywhere, he didn't have his web shooters so he couldn't rely on them. It hurt him to leave them behind but they were replaceable, he would have to do without.

He also knew about Doc Ock's office but even during his short time in there he hadn't seen anything to his advantage. He doubted the doctor kept his web shooters there, or hell even his suit. He couldn't imagine the villains had held onto his suit for him and it would be pointless to try and look for it. It would just take away precious time.

His escape would hinge on his own capabilities not the suits. He had to be ready to prove for real that he was Spiderman without the suit. The thought didn't give him strength as it had in the past, instead it sat like a burden on his tired shoulders, threatening to drag him down.

But just when he was starting to feel a bit hopeless at the possibility of having somewhat of an idea about the route he could take to make his way out of the warehouse, Doctor Octopus presented him an early Christmas gift.

Peter was lounging in his bed, watching a Russian soap opera with Rhino when Octavius approached the duo. 

He was smiling and for once it seemed genuine. He even looked excited. 

"I have something to show you." Peter quirked an eyebrow up, taking his eyes off of the woman giving a monologue about her cheating husband, at least that's what he thought she was doing. He still wasn't great at understanding Russian. "Something to show me?" 

Doc Ock nodded. "Rhino will you help him, I want you both to follow me." He stood off to the side as Rhino got up, pushing the cart to the side and helping Peter to his feet. The concrete felt cold on his feet even with his socks on but he ignored the sensation as he slowly followed Doctor Octopus. Rhino's hand stayed gently on his back, helping keep Peter upright. Of course Peter didn't need the help anymore but he continued to put on a show. He even at one point told the men he needed to stop, pretending to feel shaky. Rhino had scooped him up and continued on without a word. He hadn't expected the action and blushed, embarrassed. He protested but Rhino ignored him, earning a chuckle from Doc Ock. Even though the ordeal was embarrassing it gave Peter ample opportunity to memorize the halls of the warehouse. They hadn't blindfolded him or put headphones in his ears so he could fully take in everything. He wasn't sure why Doc Ock didn't do just that, but maybe the man was trusting of Peter now. A weird twinge of guilt struck Peter and he had to shake his head to rid him of the emotion. He had nothing to feel guilty over, he was going home to his true family not these men pretending to now be his.

He kept track of all the turns they took. Left, left, right, left, right, straight. He memorized the turns as if they were the cheat code to a video game. All of the doors in the hallways were closed, not even one of them just slightly ajar. He counted fourteen different doors, all potentially leading to more hallways or rooms. It was dizzying to think of the possibilities of where each door led so Peter remained focused, he couldn't think of the what ifs. He had to see where Doc Ock led him and assess the situation from there.

At the end of the hallway stood massive double doors with circular windows sitting center in each frame, and Peter's heart jumped into his throat, a familiar scent wafted through the air and the beginnings of tears pinpricked at the corners of his eyes.

Doc Ock looked back, watching Peter's face before he pushed open the double doors and fresh air filled the the hallway, washing over Peter leaving him stunned.

Beyond the doors sat a small courtyard with green grass and a large oak tree standing tall in the middle, its leaves rustling slightly from an unknown source of wind. Dandelions poked out through the grass swaying along the gentle breeze and the entire room was bathed in filtered sunlight from a skylight sitting directly overhead. Peter looked up and could see the outline of the sun through the dusty glass, seeming even farther away than normal. The skylight sat stories above the courtyard giving the room much needed height and making the tree look like a miniature placed in a child's diorama. The room itself was small with just the courtyard filling the space but to Peter it felt like an ever expanding landscape. He hadn't realized how much he missed being outside until he entered the room.

Rhino set him down carefully and Peter stood, shell-shocked, trying to take it all in.

Doc Ock's voice seemed like a whisper on the wind as Peter's attention was entirely kept on the room. "I thought some fresh air might do you some good, and you've been... well behaved so I felt that this was earned." Peter didn't dare move, feeling like if he did that Octavius would sweep him up and back to the inside of the dusty warehouse. He wanted to stay, standing in the grass for as long as he could.

"This is a place we can bring you to as a reward for good behavior," Doc Ock said moving to stand in front of Peter to recapture his attention. His smile was wide but the joy behind his voice felt smug and condescending. He was reminded again all too quickly that he was a prisoner, getting rewarded for _good behavior_. This was just another move to sway Peter to their side.

"One or more of us will stay with you here, but feel free to enjoy the space. Just no climbing up walls or moving out of our line of vision," Doc Ock said. "Do you understand?"

And even though Peter knew this was all another ploy to gain his trust, his compliance, he couldn't help the wide grin that broke over his face and the way his eyes lit up. "I understand," He nodded fervently, ready to explore the small space.

Octavius returned the smile and said, "Alright, have at it. Rhino and I will remain here."

The first thing Peter did was take off his socks so that he could feel the grass between his toes. Normally Peter didn't spend much time with his feet in the grass before being kidnapped as green space in New York was a rarity and every time he found himself in a park he never thought to take his shoes off. But being trapped behind walls of concrete and dust really made you start to appreciate the little things in life, like warm grass tickling the soles of your feet.

He made his way tentatively over to to tree, not forgetting he was supposed to be acting injured still, and went to feel the bark on his palms. Everything was heightened with the return of his senses and he had never been more glad to be standing in front of a tree before.

He looked back to the two villains, Rhino already sitting down with his back leaning against the wall, watching Peter contently and Doc Ock stood besides him, arms behind his back and the smile still on his face. "What is this place?" He asked as he circled the tree, looking up into the branches as the sun filtering through the leaves caught him in a hazy glow.

"We're not quite sure," Doc Ock answered, walking towards Peter his mechanical arms steps muted by the grass. "We think the warehouse was built around it, although we're not quite sure why as the room doesn't serve any other purpose."

Peter grabbed one of the branches, dangling from it. He wanted to climb the tree but realized it probably wasn't the best idea to do so if he was still playing the injured hostage. "How are things able to grow here?"

Doc Ock shrugged, "My best guess is rain water leaking through the skylight. None of us water any of it that's for sure." Peter let himself fall softly to the grass, kneeling in it. The smell of the dirt made him feel peaceful and he leaned back against the tree looking up at the doctor.

"It's beautiful," Peter breathed, feeling more content than he had in a long while. He didn't even mind Octavius' presence at the moment, it was like he was experiencing an endorphin rush after he went swinging through the city. He always felt most like himself as he glided through the air and stopped to take in all of New York on the rooftops. It was the time Peter was ever truly himself he thought. Unbound by societal norms, unconstrained by the everyday pressures, and untethered from his own crippling self-doubt. Being in the air was everything to Peter and in that moment sitting with his back pushed against rough bark he got that feeling once again. He felt like himself again.

But the feeling was gone the moment Doc Ock spoke up, "Yes, it's quite marvelous." Peter looked up to the skylight and noticed a thin crack traveling along the middle. He figured that's where the strange wind was coming from and a stroke of genius hit him in that moment.

That crack was his way out. If he could break it then the skylight was the door he had been looking for. In true Spiderman fashion of course the way out wasn't an ordinary door, no he would have to climb to his freedom.

He looked back to the doctor's face quickly, not wanting him to notice Peter's line of sight and what he had discovered. "Could you help me climb the tree?" He asked, sheepishly, wanting the doctor to think he was looking at the branches rather than the skylight. It was embarrassing to ask and Peter felt truly like a child in that moment but the play seemed to have worked as the doctor sighed, "I don't think you should be climbing in your condition right now... maybe next time we come. We'll see how you're doing."

Peter just nodded, looking disappointed, getting up to find a particularly sunny spot in the grass before laying down in it. 

They spent the next couple of hours like that with Peter sunbathing as if he were a house cat who always found the one sun patch in the house to sprawl out in. Rhino and Octavius made conversation as Peter dozed happily in the sun, the smile never leaving his face. He even sneaked a peak up at the skylight again, looking at the muddy shape of birds flying just beyond the window. Soon enough he would be out there with them, flying once again.

Before leaving the room to head back for dinner, Peter had found a smooth rock nestled in between a root and some dandelions. He didn't pick it up but noted its placement, making a mental note to keep track of it.

Leaving the room Peter felt rejuvenated and energized. He buzzed with excitement as they made their way back down the hallways to join the other Sinister Six for dinner. Both Rhino and Doc Ock seemed pleased at his mood but neither were aware of the real reason Peter was soaring, and it would stay that way. He talked excitedly about how he was gonna climb the tree when he was better, appealing to their idea that Peter was nothing more than a child, and they fell right into it. Rhino had even said, "I bet little spider could climb quite high." Peter did have to wonder if they thought he was ten years old, not sixteen, but he dropped it. Better they think him even more unassuming than normal.

He was initially going to wait a few more days before enacting his escape attempt, but he could see how unguarded the Sinister Six were in that moment. How they deluded themselves that Peter was grateful to them for their kindness, for allowing him to be in some fucking grass. Their egos would always get in the way of their better judgement, Peter had learned enough times fighting them. It was the reason he always won... well almost always won. They were so blinded by their pride that they never saw the true picture lying before them. Men with boundless power were always going to think higher of themselves, especially to someone they viewed as weaker than them.

Peter knew they wouldn't suspect him of trying to escape, although they should be more wary of him after showing him the courtyard, should be more vigilant in watching him, but their relaxed demeanor said otherwise.

He ate dinner with them, chiming in with his own thoughts during the conversation to further show the good mood he was in, and the Sinister Six ate it up. All of them smiling at one point or another at Peter's willingness to join their nightly dinner convos. They were like putty in his hands and he smiled to himself. This was the time, he couldn't waste a second longer. He would escape tonight. 

Dinner finished and as per usual Rhino helped Peter into bed while the other men cleaned up the dishes. He was tired and planned to get some sleep to save up on some energy for later. He was already nestled under the covers, eyes closed when he sensed someone come up next to him. He cracked open one eye, peeking out at Doc Ock looming over him, body lit from behind so his face hidden in shadows. 

He waited for the doctor to speak as the man seemed a little nervous to be standing in front of Peter. He cleared his throat and said, "I know you enjoyed the courtyard today and you did very well in there." He paused, his mechanical arms fixing the comforter on Peter's bed so it laid more square over Peter's body. "We can make our outings there a daily thing if you'd like."

Peter smiled, trying to look sincere. "Can we?" He asked, putting the power back in Octavius' hands. The man lived for the attention and would love that Peter was asking him for permission rather than Octavius just giving it over.

Just like he expected Octavius relaxed at the question and held himself high again. "We can, I think it will be good for your healing process."

Peter nodded, and said as gratefully as he could muster, "Thank you." The words felt strange leaving his lips but he found himself truly meaning it but not for the reasons Octavius would think. He was thanking the man for showing him the way home, the way out of this nightmare. He knew the same man that put him in it would be the same man to take him out of it.

"You're welcome," He said softly and pulled the comforter up to Peter's shoulders. "Get some sleep. We'll see you in the morning."

Peter closed his eyes, the last image he saw was the retreating back of Doctor Octopus as he went to assist his men in cleaning. He fell asleep quickly and for the first time he could say he actually dreamt of good things since he had been taken.

\---------------

Peter awoke a few hours later in the pitch black. This time he awoke not to the feeling of his invisible friend in the room but to an invisible thread pulling him back towards the courtyard. He laid still, breathing slow and evenly still trying to feign sleep. He listened for any sounds and could hear the quiet murmuring of two men in the office. Everything else remained still as Peter slowly got out of bed. 

His feet were light on the floor as he stayed low to the ground, barely moving as he continued to listen and look. Nothing disturbed either senses and he moved quietly to keep it that way. He would have to make his way past the office, which was something he had already planned for. The office had windows that faced out into the hallway but concrete walls underneath. Peter was tiny and nimble enough to stay out of sight of the windows and as long as he didn't make a sound he should be clear to go.

He was practically crawling on the floor as he made his way down towards the office, light shining through the windows as the voices grew louder and more clear. It was Electro and Vulture, talking quietly and Peter figured they were his watchdogs for the night. 

He was approaching the door, trying to keep his heart from beating erratically. He felt his palms go clammy but now was not the time to tense up, he moved swiftly not even breathing as he crawled underneath the window.

Electro and Vulture were talking about some kind of movie that Peter couldn't quite hear the name of and their shadows danced in the hallway as they moved about the room. Peter's own shadow stuck by his side as he slid along the underside of the window. The sounds of footsteps approaching made him freeze as he could see Vulture's shadow right at the window now. He prayed, begged to whoever was listening that Vulture didn't notice, didn't see Peter there. There was no excuse that would get him out of that and his chances of escape would die before they even were born.

Vulture seemed to pause before Electro said something about the main character that sent him back to talk to the man in the recesses of the room. Peter didn't even dare breathe a sigh of relief as he finished shuffling along and was once again back in the blessed darkness, blending into the shadows.

He put his memory to good use as he quickly made his way down the hallways. Left, left, right, left, right, straight. He almost felt as if he were in a video game on a quest for his freedom. He didn't see or hear any of the other Sinister Six in the hallways during this time and was always cautious each time he made his way around a corner. He figured they must be sleeping, and hoped that wherever they were was no where near where he needed to go.

Every creak of the pipes sent shivers down his spine as he pressed flat against the wall, thinking someone had discovered him, but the warehouse just seem to be speaking to him as if encouraging him on. Covering up his tracks with distractions of its own.

After what felt like an eternity Peter made it to the final hallway and could see the double doors stretching before him like the doors to heaven. A pale glow hung beyond the small circular windows that sat on each door frame and felt like the beacon he had been looking for.

He walked as fast as he could towards the doors, looking over his shoulder for any sign of another lifeform but the warehouse just continued to moan, no person in sight. He pushed the doors open slowly, sliding inside as quietly as possible and stood back with his feet in the grass, the beautiful moonlight bathing the room in an iridescent glow.

If he thought the courtyard was beautiful before he was sorely mistaken. Everything seemed to be frozen in time as the tree and flowers sat in stillness, looking like a scene right out of a fantasy novel. Everything shined with silver and glittered midnight blue in the shadows. Peter looked up the skylight and spotted the familiar crack, almost seeming to wink at him.

A wild smile broke out over his face as he ran to grab the rock right where he left it. He tucked it into the pocket of his sweatpants and ran over to the wall. He put his fingers onto the concrete and began ascending the side of the room. He was quick and deft in his movements, and kept his eyes on the place he was crawling towards. A small ledge stuck out from the side of the concrete about fifteen feet in the air, if he just reached that ledge he could use it to make his next move. 

The moonlight seemed to wash him in a brilliance that showed Peter's true self as he heaved himself onto the ledge. He was now only about ten feet away from the skylight and the rock felt like a gift as he removed it from his pocket.

It sat perfectly round in the palm of his hand, a true perfect skipping stone and Peter wound his arm back aiming for the crack.

Just as he released the rock a shout startled him. The rock was already sailing through the air and hit the crack dead center, further splintering it. Peter's heart jumped into his throat as animalistic screams filled the air. 

They were coming for him.

Peter watched the crack widen and it felt like time was slowing down as the rock plummeted back to earth. The crack continued to splinter off but Peter could already tell it wouldn't break from the rock alone. The distant shouting was growing louder and Peter knew he wouldn't have time to go back down and get the rock again for another throw. He had to break the glass on his own.

He didn't hesitate as he crawled up the wall frantically, now no longer trying to keep quiet, his captors would figure out where he was quickly, and he needed to move _now_. He was on the ceiling in mere seconds and over the crack in another. His added weight kept the splintering affect going but more force was going to be needed to break through.

He braced one of his hands and both feet flat on the glass and used his other hand to punch the center of the crack. Blood exploded from his knuckles but Peter didn't relent, feeling wild and unhinged as the voices grew louder and angrier. He continued to punch, throwing his whole strength and body weight at the glass. The glass finally relented and his arm went straight through, feeling the rush of the cool night air on his bleeding appendage. Shock shook him but he carefully brought his arm back down, trying not to cut it on the sharp edges. Little lacerations already danced up his arm looking like a Jackson Pollock painting but thankfully none of his arteries had been nicked and only small shards of glass got caught in his skin.

The hurried sounds of thundering footsteps shook the room and in a strange twist of fate, the ceiling as well. Rhino was running to the courtyard and the vibrations he was causing allowed the glass to break off even more and Peter took advantage. He punched more of the glass away until the hole was big enough for him to crawl through.

He braced his hands on either side of the hole, allowing himself to dangle for only a moment, before swinging his feet first through the hole allowing the momentum to carry him up. Glass caught on his shirt ripping it and he hit the topside of the skylight hard, glass quickly falling away beneath him.

His Spidey Sense ignited and he rolled over the skylight towards the outer edges as glass fell down, looking like falling snow in the courtyard. He scrambled to his feet and jumped out from under the skylight onto a solid roof as the glass completely caved in with a shatter. 

He only took a moment to look down into the courtyard as the once green grass now lay covered in broken glass and the tree top contained a small layer of the dust that had been trapped in the ceiling. The doors burst open and his captors looked around furious and crazed searching for Peter.

Panic shot through him like a bolt and he clambered to his feet, feeling the whip of the wind numbing his skin and spotted the shining red A amongst the horizon.

A relieved laugh bubbled out of his throat and he didn't waste a minute as he took off across the roof top, running as if his life depended on it.

He was finally homebound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, we're starting to get into the crux of things and I'm excited to keep exploring this story ^^


	9. Makes Men Mad

_“It is the very error of the moon. She comes more nearer earth than she was wont. And makes men mad.”_ \- Shakespeare, Othello

Peter's lungs burned and his legs screamed in retaliation as he ran and ran. The wind whipped around him, causing goosebumps to rise over exposed skin and turning the blood running down his arm to ice, but despite the panic and his Spidey Sense blaring in his head, Peter had never felt more alive.

His Spidey Sense exploded behind his eyes and time seemed to slow as he skidded low to the rooftop and felt the rush of wind graze his head as Vulture flew over him, narrowly missing Peter with his outstretched arms. His skid didn't stop and took him to the edge of the rooftop where he fell without a glance at what lay below him. 

He was freefalling in the air, the wind slapping him across the face and his eyes picked up on a fire escape. Vulture was already diving after him, eyes blazing in their fury, as he shot down towards Peter. But Peter fell faster than Vulture flew and threw a hand out, grabbing the railing of the fire escape. He allowed the momentum to propel him sideways as he flipped in the air, landing smoothly on Vulture's wings before using him as a base to jump to the next rooftop. Vulture grunted under Peter's pressure and fell further down, unable to gather his bearings for a second.

But a second was all Peter needed as he rolled onto the rooftop, glass further embedding into his right arm, and catapulted up, continuing his sprint, no hesitation to be seen.

He was acting purely on instinct at this point, feeling every shift of the air around him, every hit of the concrete beneath his feet, and hearing every swoosh of his enemies wings as they tried to descend upon him. He didn't need to look back to know if Vulture was catching up or not, Peter could simply _feel_ it and it was the only thing that kept him from being captured. 

Peter's feet were light against the concrete rooftop as he ran across, but just as Vulture was getting to the edge of the roof where Peter had landed, the teenager was already over, leaping into the air. His hands stretched in front of him, reaching desperately for a windowsill, but unlike his earlier fall Peter had looked this time and jumped accordingly to make it. His hands caught the edge and he scrambled up quickly, clambering through the open window. He landed on his hands and knees, the glass caught in his palm scratching against the floor, but the adrenaline coursing through him didn't even allow him to register the pain as he was up, running through another empty warehouse. 

He could hear Vulture roar behind him, searching the alleyway between the two buildings, flying faster than Peter had ever seen him move before. The man seemed unaware that Peter had climbed through the window but he would figure it out soon. Peter didn't plan to stick around for it.

He sprinted through the open door of the room he landed in, out into a hallway. Just like the warehouse the Sinister Six had kept him in this one too had a million different doors, none of them seeming like a way out. Peter briefly thought about hiding but quickly deciding against it. He couldn't hide forever, his best bet was to keep moving to get as close to Avengers Tower as he could. He just hoped that Tony had F.R.I.D.A.Y scanning every camera in the city for his face, that she would alert the Avengers he was running through the streets of Manhattan with the Sinister Six on his tail. It was his only play at this point. He didn't think he could make it to Avengers Tower actually, he just had to get close enough. Close to traffic cameras and pray that the Avengers showed up before he was taken again. 

He ran down the hallway, the usual erratic heartbeat pumping in his ears being a comfort. It was the same heartbeat he heard during battle, it kept him steady and moving, focused on the task ahead.

His Spidey Sense thrummed, sending his body moving into a doorway before his mind could comprehend the warning. He held his breath as Mr. Negative appeared around the corner, glowing hotly, filling the entire space in a blinding light.

He didn't even get a glimpse of the man's face as he slipped further into the room, quiet. He managed to duck behind a wayward desk just in time as Mr. Negative looked into the room. The man didn't spend long looking and left abruptly, blasting every door open in his search for Peter. The light still lingered in the room long enough for Peter to spot another window, slightly ajar. He silently made his way over, shimmying it open, grateful that it didn't squeak as old windows tended to do, and slipped out onto another fire escape.

This one was on the side of the building, facing the Hudson River, and Peter realized dejectedly that the Sinister Six's hideout was an old warehouse on the harbor. There weren't a lot of traffic cams in this area. The fishing wharf mainly held nothing of real value, just old shipping containers sitting empty. He had many fights down in this area, which was perfect for keeping civilians safe and avoiding massive property damage. He knew the area well enough to know nobody paid attention to this area. He would need to make his way out to the main streets if he had any hope of catching Tony's attention. The only issue was that the main streets were a trek and he was without his web shooters, making the whole journey that much longer, and the longer he spent on foot his chances of being recaptured increased. He had to stick to the shadows, avoiding the Sinister Six as best he could, especially to avoid a fight. He could beat one or two of them, _maybe_ , but if all six converged on him he was fucked. He had to keep that from happening.

He hopped down the fire escape, opting to drop from railing to railing rather than run down them. It helped decrease the noise and was also faster to get him to the ground. The alleyway was narrow and the sounds of the river lapping at the edges would've normally soothed him, but his emotions were frayed and the sound was messing with his senses. He felt so oversensitive as his Spidey Sense was thrown into overdrive. It was hard to concentrate on everything coming at him but Peter had been dealing with sensory overload for a while, and even without the suit he could force out the bits of information that were unhelpful to his survival. The suit protected him from sensory overload, Tony designed it special for that, and now without it Peter was pulling from his memory bank on how he dealt with the issue before he met Tony. It wasn't easy but he had managed back then and he would have to do so again.

He reached the end of the alley, listening for movement. Everything was quiet and Peter didn't hesitate, running down, sticking close to the walls. He was almost to the end when he heard the distinct sound of humming, an electrical hum. He sunk low, ducking behind a dumpster as Electro ran past, electrical sparks sizzling off of him.

"SPIDERMAN!" He bellowed, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to erupt over Peter's skin. He stayed crouched, not daring to move as the man paused looking down the alleyway. He started walking in and Peter's heart sputtered, if he kept coming forward he would find Peter's hiding spot. His footsteps slapped against the pavement, electrical surges shooting off, disappearing up the walls.

Peter could feel the electricity being drawn towards the dumpster, attracted to the metal, and he leaned away from it, not willing to touch it and shock himself. Just as Electro was about to reach the dumpster a sound shot off in the distance and the man turned, running off.

Peter didn't know who caused the noise but he counted his lucky stars as he peeked around his hiding spot. Electro was nowhere to be seen and he took off, feeling the traces of electricity clinging to the fabric of his clothes. He ran the opposite direction of the sound, recognizing the area. He was running parallel to the river but eventually he would pop out into a busier section of the wharf, where potentially some men were working the night shift.

He didn't like the idea of putting civilians in danger, even as he was attempting a harrowing escape, so he changed course and headed west towards the streets of Manhattan. He would have to risk running into the Sinister Six, he couldn't put anyone in danger, and the cityscape was his normal battleground. He would have the advantage there.

He dipped in and out of alleyways, sometimes running through different warehouses to escape the villains as they had started to more thoroughly search each alleyway. The warehouses were a risk though too as the closer he got to the beginning of the wharf the more the warehouses became just giant empty rooms. There were no spots to hide, he was like a mouse in an open field waiting for the hawk to swoop down and devour him whole. 

He realized the risk wasn't worth it when he darted into another warehouse as he sensed someone coming down the alleyway he occupied a moment before. He hurried across the cool stone, not wanting to stay long and was about to reach the door when his Spidey Sense sent him flipping into the air.

The doors flew off their hinges and it would've hit Peter if he hadn't dodged in time. They landed on the floor of the warehouse, the crash echoing loud and hard, and Rhino stood in the middle of the doorframe with the dust settling.

His eyes settled on Peter, who landed in a crouch and the once amusement he had when interacting with the hero was gone. Instead his eyes were set, black and beady in his too large face, and his upper lip curled around his teeth in a snarl.

Peter felt the air leave his lungs, and could feel the shift in temperature of the room as the two stared at each other. Rhino walked in, slow and steady, as Peter started to back up. He was standing in the middle of the room with no walls or ceiling close by to escape with. He was face to face with the Rhino, nothing but his bloody and tired body to assist him. He squared his shoulders, and slowed his breath, every fiber of his being tensing for a fight.

"Come little spider," Rhino's voice carried down the walls reverberating inside Peter's skull, "This is far enough."

Peter laughed, short and curt, and rather than grace Rhino with an answer he stuck up his middle finger instead, wet blood shining dimly off his nail. Rhino's eyes narrowed and he charged. Peter threw his body to the left, hands landing on the floor and springing him forward in a front-hand spring. Rhino charged right past, his body bulldozing through the space before colliding with a wall, destroying it upon impact.

Peter took the opportunity Rhino had made as he tried to dislodge himself from the rubble, and bolted out the giant hole in the wall that used to be the door. He twisted to the left in an almost pirouette as Scorpion's stinger ripped through the tattered remains of his shirt further tearing the cotton. He flipped backwards as Scorpion quickly recovered from the miss, fists flying forward trying to grab Peter's shirt. He landed right side up, just in time to side step Scorpion's flying arm and grabbed the man's forearm, using his body weight to toss the larger man over his shoulder.

He heard the wind get knocked out of Scorpion as the man gasped upon impact but Peter didn't wait and turned on his heel, setting off in another run. He felt a sharp pain behind his eyes and threw himself sideways just as Rhino came out of the warehouse, full speed, aiming for Peter. This time Peter wasn't quick enough though as the man clipped him, sending Peter flying off, his body skittering across the gravel.

His body stopped tumbling, and he pushed himself to his feet quick, although his muscles strained against the action. He was already starting to tire, he needed to end this fight _now_.

Rhino was already orienting himself for another charge, this time with his hands shoved forward as if he planned to grab Peter. The hero ran towards the warehouse wall and proceeded to run directly up it just as Rhino collided with the building. The wall shook and Peter threw his hands forward to now climb up the wall. Sitting off the roof was a crane holding a large net of crates. He scurried up the crane, standing atop and yelled down to Rhino below, "You're just as dumb as the brute I remember you to be. What's the Russian word for idiot again?... oh yeah, _идиот_." 

Rhino roared and began to beat the wall mercilessly, trying to make Peter fall down. But this was just as he planned, which Scorpion seemed to realize as he finally got to his feet.

"No you moron! You're gonna-" but whatever Scorpion was gonna say got lost in the noise, the crane fell forward with a large groan, over the edge of the roof. Peter ran atop the falling machinery and leapt off the tip to the safety of the next rooftop, able to watch as Rhino's eyes widened in horror and the crane came crashing down on the man.

Peter wasted no time to see if Rhino made it out safely from the wreckage, the noise would attract the rest of his team and Peter needed to be far gone by the time they got there. He flew across the rooftop at lightning speed and was already on the next as he could hear Scorpion screaming bloody murder into the night air.

Just like during his fight with Vulture he skidded off the roof into a freefall but this time kept his hands braced alongside the wall and soon enough slowed. His skin burned being dragged down the brick but the adrenaline helped push the pain to the back of his thoughts. He stayed perched on the wall for a second, before making his next decision.

He pushed off, flying through the air and landed on the ground with a soft thud. There was a small wedge in between two buildings and Peter knew he was small enough to fit inside, it would give him some cover as the Sinister Six converged on the scene. 

He scooted along as quick as he could but it was a tight fit, but with some effort he finally popped out on the other side sucking in a grateful breath. He stood amidst a small park of sorts, trees scattered almost haphazardly amongst the small patches of grass and through his heart pounding in his ear the sound of cars driving by could be heard.

Relief soared through him, he was close to the main street. It was only a little further now. He picked up the pace, feeling the familiar rush of wind comb through his hair and tickle his skin. He was reaching the edges of the park when a voice stopped him dead in his tracks, "If you take one more step you'll regret it."

The voice silenced the cars, quieted the wind, and dropped the temperature even further in the chilly night air. Peter whipped around to face the leader of the Sinister Six.

Doctor Octopus stood high, his feet not even touching the ground, as his mechanical arms walked steadily forward, looking larger and more intimidating than Peter remembered them to be.

The man for all intents and purposes looked composed, but Peter could see the way his fists clenched, the tension set in his jaw, even his googles seem to shine with emotion.

Octavius was enraged, and the moon peaked out from under the clouds bathing the duo in a white light.

Doc Ock reached into his pocket and withdrew a syringe which glinted dangerously in the moonlight making Peter's blood run even colder than before. He couldn't help the shaking that overtook his hands, and he had to clench his own fists to make them stop. The glass embedded in his palm pierced against the tips of his fingers, drawing fresh blood.

"I don't want to have to use this, but I will if you force my hand." He continued to move forward as Peter stepped backwards, maintaining the distance between them.

Peter laughed, hollow and raw. "Don't want to? Last time I checked you and needles were like _this_ ," He crossed his ring finger over his pointer. "You had no issue poking me the other day with one you absolute fucking psycho," He spat, his anger trying to cover up his unease. He wasn't sure if he could best Doc Ock right now, not when the fatigue and injuries were starting to hit him. His movements were sluggish in comparison to before and the shaking of his hands was started to affect his legs too. This wasn't looking good.

Doctor Octopus' snarl deepened at the insult, arms lurching forward in larger steps and Peter had to skip backwards to keep the distance between them.

"Stop moving or you _will_ force my hand, boy." He hissed and his arms seemed to hiss in unison with their master. Peter laughed again, Octavius was insane if he thought Peter would give up here and willingly go back with them, not when he was so close to escaping. So close to home. He needed to face this last hurdle if he was to get out of here.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins, temporarily stopping the shaking, and Peter positioned himself low in his fighting stance, heels digging into the dirt. He didn't need to answer Doc Ock as the man recognized the answer. Peter wasn't going to go without a fight.

Peter blinked as the front two tentacles lunged forward, clicking angrily in the air, aiming for both of Peter's arms. Peter grabbed a branch from a nearby tree, swinging his body upwards and landing with his feet on the topside of the branch. The arms changed direction bending over the branch going for Spiderman's ankles. Peter leapt into the air, reaching for another branch as he scurried up the tree from branch to branch with the arms never ceasing their chase.

He reached the top branch and swung back down underneath just as one of the arms came dangerously close to grabbing his upper arm. He jumped to a lower branch and as the arm went to follow it stopped a millimeter away from his face. As Doc Ock had been occupied chasing him Peter was carefully jumping from branch to branch to have the two arms weave around, effectively tangling them up in the process. 

He smirked as the tentacle clicked rapidly, clearly angry at what Peter had tricked Octavius into doing. The man himself yelled, having another of his arms dart forward for Peter, but the teenager was already jumping out of the tree and landing hard on the ground. He stumbled for only a moment as he took off running towards the blinking lights of Manhattan. The giant A of Avengers Tower shined on him like a new moon, casting a red tint in his eyes. He smiled stupidly, freely running from his enemy.

His Spidey Sense tingled as he heard the branches snapping simultaneously, Doctor Octopus freeing himself from the branches in record time. The man screamed as he took off after Peter, his tentacles carrying him twice as far and fast as Peter could run.

His small moment of victory ceased as he came to another alleyway, leaping to stick to the right wall as Doc Ock's arm came swooping in, almost grabbing the back of Peter's shirt. He propelled off the right wall to the left as he played a game of leap frog with Octavius, leaping from wall to wall until he landed solidly on the roof of the right building. 

He pushed off, the ceiling of the roof being covered in loose gravel, and it slowed Peter's sprint as he lost his footing in it. Doctor Octopus was upon the roof and his arm darted out, cutting into Peter's shoulder but not quite grabbing him.

Spiderman cried out, hand flying to his shoulder as he rolled to the left to avoid another arm coming for him. Blood oozed between his fingers and he let go of the open wound to use his hands to grab one of the tentacles coming for him.

He knocked it to the side with a swat and used the moment of distraction to run up to Octavius, landing a punch firmly in the man's stomach. The man wheezed, his body taking in the hit, but Peter used the moment of surprise to his advantage. He gripped both of the doctors shoulders and flipped over the man, as he landed on his feet he brought the doctor with him, straining his muscles to lift the man and his heavy mechanical arms over Peter's head and tossing him to the edge of the roof. 

Doc Ock hit the rooftop hard, unmoving for a brief second.

Peter didn't even dare stop to take a breath as he turned back and rushed to the other edge of the rooftop, jumping off and grabbing a fire escape on his way down. He allowed himself to only grab it once before dropping to the ground. 

His feet crumbled beneath him and he laid on the ground breathing hard, His shoulder pounded in pain, blood still pouring from the wound and Peter was starting to feel light headed. He looked up at the fire escape, noticing the blood dripping from the metal and realized he must have been trailing blood this entire time. He never once stopped bleeding since breaking through the skylight.

The thought sat empty in his head, not making him feel one way or another, but adrenaline still coursed through his veins and he needed to take advantage while it was still with him. He pushed himself to his feet and hit the ground running, hard and fast. 

He finally found himself out on a street, an _actual_ New York street, one car sped by him too quick for Peter to wave down. He crossed the street quickly and went to duck inside an alley, knowing his captors were not going to stay off his trail for long, especially since he was leaving a rather convenient red trail to follow.

He didn't stop running, running in and out of alleys, the sounds of the city growing louder, his lungs were screeching at him to take a break and black was dotting along the sides of his vision but he didn't stop until he heard a noise, a noise that finally allowed the tears to fall from his hazel eyes.

A sob escaped his throat as he saw Ironman descending from the sky, propellers whirring beneath him. In that moment Tony Stark looked like an angel sent from heaven.

Tony landed fast, his face shield flying up, showing his tired face to Peter. The man looked like a wreck, dark circles under his eyes, cheeks sallow, and hair greasy, which Tony's hair was _never_ greasy. He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks and his face looked even more harrowed when he looked upon Peter's own.

"Mr. Stark..." Peter cried, running up to the man about to throw his arms around Ironman when Tony stepped back, surprising Peter and stopping him in his tracks. Peter's eyes blurred from the tears, and confusion took over him. Why did Mr. Stark not let him hug him?

As if reading his mind Tony answered, "No time, kid. We gotta move. They're right behind us." Tony looked around, worried and Peter felt his hair stand on end. Tony was right, this was no time for reunions, they could have that later. Now was the time to leave.

Peter opened his mouth to ask Tony where they should go but before he could Tony's mask fell back over his face and he said, "Follow me." Without a second to spare Ironman took off, flying up and around the alleyway.

Peter stood there dumbfounded, but his body moved before his brain could think. Tony was there to save him, all Peter needed to do was follow. He scurried up the wall onto the rooftop of an apartment building, eyes landing on Tony's bright propellers burning red in the midnight sky. Peter hurried along after him, running as fast as he could even though his body was now running on fumes and he never stopped bleeding.

Thoughts started to creep into his head even though he was panicking to keep up with his mentor. _"Why didn't Tony just pick Peter up and fly away, why was he having Peter follow him?_ " But Peter didn't think on it too hard as panic and relief sat together in his gut to settle in an unpleasant mixture. His heart was in his throat and his body shook as he struggled to keep up with Ironman but only one thought flowed through him.

He was going home.

Tony finally darted down into another alleyway with a, "Here, kid," tossed over his shoulder as he disappeared into the inky blackness of Manhattan's gray buildings. Peter hurried to the edge of the rooftop and climbed down the walls quickly to reach the alley floor.

He landed on solid ground but Mr. Stark was nowhere to be found. Fear clawed in his chest, ripping his beating heart and making Peter feel colder than he felt all night.

"Mr. Stark?" He called out uneasily to the darkness, taking small steps forward, listening for anything. The familiar racket of the city sat in the background but the unusual quiet was electrifying Peter's nerves. He walked more down, his Spidey Sense started to buzz a little and he stopped. 

His senses had gotten him this far tonight and he wasn't about to ignore his better judgement. Something about this wasn't right. He put a hand to the wall, about to climb back up when a voice spoke out from the dark.

"Peter? Is that you?"

Ice entered his veins and his whole body stilled, the shaking temporarily stopping. That _voice_ pulled at his heartstrings and his breaths came out ragged and uneven.

He could hear the crunch of footsteps approach and he slowly turned his head to stare into warm cobalt blue eyes, tears sitting in them. Peter felt his own tears cascade down his face as he stared at a dead man.

"U-uncle Ben?"

"Peter," His uncle sobbed, looking no older than the day Peter saw him murdered. He was even wearing the same tan windbreaker on the day of his death. The blood from the bullet wound had stained it an ugly brown. He remembered it because when Uncle Ben's belongings had been returned to May and Peter she had scrubbed furiously at the blood with hot water scalding her hands, trying desperately to bring Ben's jacket back to its original state. Peter watched her screaming, tears and snot flowing down her face as she sobbed helplessly at the loss of her husband.

Aunt May had never been able to get that stain out.

"Peter, oh my god," Ben cried, moving towards him, arms outstretched for a hug but just as Tony had done to Peter, Peter did to his uncle. He stepped back out of arms reach, eyes wide and haunted. 

He stared at Ben... no, not Ben. Ben was dead. Ben had been dead for over 2 years. There was not any shred of a possibility Ben was now standing before him. This wasn't real, this _couldn't_ be real. The blood loss was causing him to hallucinate, he needed to find Tony.

"Peter..." Ben trailed off, real hurt flashing in his eyes at Peter's rejection of his affections, but the teenager ignored him. "Mr. Stark!" He shouted to the skies. "Mr. Stark, please! I-I need help."

"Peter, what are you doing? It's me!" Ben cried, curling in on himself, sobbing. His blue eyes shining brightly in the darkness, wet with tears. "It's me, Peter!"

"N-No," Peter said, backing away slowly, strength starting to leave him. "It's not, you're- he's dead!" He shouted, his voice coming out hoarse. "I saw! I saw..." Peter trailed off, legs shaking once again. He didn't know how much longer he could remain upright, the black spots now dancing like faeries in a reverie in front of his eyes. He needed Mr. Stark to help him, where was he?

"I know you did son, I know!" Ben said, walking forward but stopping as Peter kept backing away. "I know that you saw that, I'm so sorry you did! I would never want you to see that, never!" Ben looked a little crazed, grief written all over his face. "But I didn't die Peter! The paramedics they saved me, I've been here this whole time-"

"Bullshit!" Peter screamed, anger lighting up his eyes, now no longer crying. "If you were alive then why wouldn't you come home? To May, to me! The Uncle Ben I know would never have stayed away, he would've come home to his family!"

"Don't you think I wanted to!" Ben yelled, causing Peter to take another step back in the face of his fury. "I tried to! Everyday of my life but I couldn't!" He was pacing the alley now, steps quickened by anger. "They put me into protective custody and wouldn't release me until the guy who shot me was behind bars. The trial took years Peter, years! I wasn't allowed to let anyone know I was alive, no one..." Ben's anger depleted, more grief taking its place.

Peter stopped backing up, shocked. He knew about the man's trial, the one who shot and killed Ben, it had finally ended with his sentence just a few days before the attack at the construction site. Peter of course always kept tabs on it, wanting to make sure that monster was behind bars far away from him, May, and anyone else he could possibly hurt. The justice system was not always quick and definitive, Peter knew it could take years for a case to be closed and a sentence given. He had seen his fair share of villains use the faults in the system in their favor, to wind up back on the streets of New York.

The idea that Ben had been in protective custody for the past 2 and a half years was not as wild as an idea Peter might've once thought. Ben was staring at him, pleading for Peter to accept that he wasn't really dead but had been alive this entire time.

Peter's emotions were wrecked, his body the same. He was staring at the crying face of his dead uncle after escaping the clutches of villains and nothing seemed right in his head. Everything was _pounding_.

He was trying to think straight, to keep perspective, but with the loss of the adrenaline and the shock now settling into his system everything was collapsing within him. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. The fantasy of Ben secretly being alive was not lost on Peter. He had dreamed of it ever since he saw his Uncle close his eyes for the last time. He saw Ben walking down the streets of Queens, chatting with the bodega clerk. He saw Ben sitting on a picnic blanket in Astoria park playing chess with a friend. He saw Ben in passing windows as he swung through the city.

He saw Ben everywhere. The man had never once left Peter's heart or his thoughts. The sightings of Ben had sometimes been so vivid that Peter could've _swore_ Ben was actually there.

Could those times have actually been Ben? Alive and well, hidden in plain sight from men that would harm him? Men that would go after Ben Parker's family if they knew he was alive?

A little voice at the back of Peter's head scratched at him, begging him to not be fooled, but the voice was drowned out at the sound of Ben's voice, "Peter, I dreamt of returning to you and May every day of my life. The idea of seeing you both again was the only thing keeping me going." Ben's cheeks were wet and his eyes clenched as he squeezed out even more tears. "Peter, I love you. Please please believe me, I would have never left you. Never.

Peter's chest heaved and a sob tore loud and harsh from his throat, overtaking the small hero. He wept. "U-uncle B-ben." He finally slumped to the alley floor, staring helplessly at his uncle. His emotions were out, consuming him as he cried harder than even when Ben died. Ben walked up kneeling in front of Peter, weeping with his nephew. He still didn't dare touch him as both men came to terms with what it meant that Ben Parker was alive and well, and not a rotting corpse in the ground that Peter had known as his truth for the past 2 and a half years. Peter's head was in his hands and it felt like the only thing keeping him together in that moment, the only stability he had. There was relief, of course, at his uncle being here again with him, but grief more profound than he had ever felt struck him to the very core. His cries were suffocating and his body felt like it was on the verge of collapse, but the presence of Ben standing besides him was keeping him conscious.

"Peter..." Ben breathed and Peter's Spidey Sense burst like hot flashes on the backs of his eyes.

He lifted his head, eyes wide, breath caught.

Ben was gone.

Peter reached forward blindly as if Ben had gone invisible, grasping at nothing but air. "U-uncle Ben..." He called out, his voice no more than a whisper. Panic, more fierce and sharp, shot down his spine and brought him to his feet. He took off down the alley his voice growing louder as he continued to call out for his uncle. His body didn't feel like his own as he stumbled out of the alley and into the streets.

Except the streets were no longer there, he was back in the rows of warehouses at the wharf, standing at the end of one of its alleys instead. The change in scenery didn't even register in Peter's crumbling psyche as he still blindly searched for his uncle. His voice had tapered off, as he ran around the side of the warehouse and into another alley. 

He reached the end of it, coming to a dead end and collapsed to the floor, screaming. His screams sounded like the screams of the damned as his eyes burned from the tears freely falling down his face. He couldn't comprehend what was happening, all he could hold onto was that he _needed to find Ben_. It was the only thought circling his brain and he picked himself up, turning to leave the alley when he heard the sounds of feet approaching. His eyes grew wide and hopeful as he moved closer to them, his thoughts only on the return of his uncle.

The feet reached the front of the alley and the Sinister Six stood before him.

His heart dropped and stopped beating all together. He fell backwards at the shock, sitting and looking impossibly small in the shadows of his enemies.

He started to scurry back as they advanced, slow and deliberate, their expressions slowly switching from pure rage to confusion as they looked at Peter. Soon enough Peter's back hit the wall, and he was shaking like a leaf, eyes never leaving the faces of his enemies.

But Ben was still at the forefront of his thoughts and he wondered if they had done something to him, had taken Ben away from Peter _again_ , but the idea didn't fill him with anger but instead filled him with fear. He warily noted the blood smearing the ground from where he had dragged his body backwards. He was still losing it... in more ways than one.

Doc Ock approached him as the other five hung back in the alley, syringe gleaming in his hand, and arms carrying him forward with each step resounding in a heavy thud.

Peter shook harder, tears feeling like they were permanently staining his cheeks. "P-please... please don't h-hurt him," Peter stuttered, feeling like the world was crashing down around him.

Doc Ock stopped at that, confusion shining even more clearly on his face. "Him?... who are you talking about?"

Peter's brain didn't even register that the men had no idea about Ben, his only thought was on keeping his uncle safe. Keeping Ben _alive._

"My u-uncle," Peter blubbered, soft sobs accompanying the shaking, "P-please please don't hurt him."

Octavius looked back to his comrades, as if looking for answers but they were unable to provide any. Looking just as dumfounded as Octavius was.

"Peter... I'm not sure what you're talking about."

But Peter didn't believe him and went to his knees to clasp the doctors free hand between his own, Octavius jumped at the movement but didn't make a move against Peter. His blood coated Doc Ock's hand but the doctor said nothing as Peter begged, "P-please please please..." He said as if in a daze, eyes wild and mouth moving of its own accord. "Don't hurt him, don't hurt him. I just got him back, please Doctor Octavius."

Before Octavius could answer Peter broke into a fresh wave of tears and cried, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Saying it over and over like a mantra.

He wasn't even sure what he was apologizing for or to whom. He just knew he was sorry and he _needed_ Doc Ock to know he was, to know Peter was at the edge of collapse and only the doctor saying he wouldn't harm Ben would bring Peter away from the cliff.

Octavius was shocked as the boy was crying openly, holding onto his hand as if his life depended on it. The moment seemed to freeze in time as the rest of the Sinister Six approached looking at Peter with apprehension.

The boy continued to mumble apologies incoherently as Octavius pocketed the syringe and drew the boy close into his arms. The movement shook Peter out of his reverie and he cried into Doctor Octopus' shirt, open and bare. 

"I'll be good, I'll be good," Peter cried, head still buried in the doctor's chest as he felt his own chest tighten. His crying was making it hard to breathe. He wanted Ben, he wanted Ben to be holding him, to be comforting him.

He wanted Ben so badly that it hurt, he felt physical pain at the lack of his uncle's presence. He felt like a madman without him, unhinged and crazed.

He didn't realize how much of a hole Ben's death had left in his heart until he saw him again, alive and in the flesh. And he knew without his uncle that the hole would only grow larger with time until it completely swallowed Peter.

The doctor drew the boy back, looking him in the eyes as the rest of the Sinister Six looked on. Blood stained Doc Ock's clothes, turning the white shirt a shiny red and making his green jacket shine darker in the moonlight.

"Are you ready to come home?" He asked Peter, syringe still poking out of his pocket as if it were a warning.

Peter didn't even care about the syringe in that moment, he didn't care that his enemies had recaptured him.

All he could think of, all he was consumed by was the thought of keeping Ben safe.

And if he had to call the Sinister Six's lair his home, he would call it home a million times over, and he would mean it.

"Yes," Peter said, helplessly and completely broken, not even fighting against Octavius handing him over to Rhino. The man picked him up as if he were a fragile thing, carrying him gently, Peter's head resting softly against Rhino's chest and the Sinister Six made their way back to their warehouse, sticking to shadows themselves.

The blood loss was finally catching up to Peter and the black that had danced across his vision all night was now closing its curtains, ending the show. The last thing he saw before the dark sea claimed him once again was Uncle Ben standing in an alleyway, looking at him sorrowfully as he waved goodbye to Peter.

Peter closed his eyes and felt like he was drowning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so fun to write, so I thoroughly hope you guys enjoyed it! It's New Years Eve here in my time zone so happy new years everyone! I hope 2021 brings better things for all of us ^^


	10. Another's Burning

_"One fire burns out another's burning, One pain is lessen'd by another's anguish."_ \- Shakespeare, Romeo & Juliet

Daredevil preferred to work alone.

He didn't like to discuss his plans of attack and was a man who fought mainly on instinct and reflexes, which he found out through his many team ups with other heroes, was not the way most of them operated. They were organized, purposeful, and backed by money. Matt only possessed one of those qualities.

His work as a vigilante was always purposeful, and he chose his fights wisely. Beyond having, let's call it, and _enhanced_ sense of seeing the world, Daredevil was just an ordinary man trained to fight. He did not possess any superpowers, gadgets, or money to help stop crime in Hells Kitchen. He only had his training and his intuition, which had proved to be enough for him.

So during his team ups with other heroes it became clear that he would never compare to his teammates. 

The Avengers had offered him a place within their ranks but Matt turned them down each time. He found each time he fought alongside them that his set of skills were unnecessary and frankly lacking. Even when compared to Black Widow and Hawkeye, two of the Avengers without any powers, he still found himself to come up short.

Daredevil didn't believe in his lack of abilities, but he would have to be blind to not admit that what he did couldn't compare to what the Avengers did. He simply knew the limits of what he could provide them and could tell they had asked him to join more out of courtesy than anything else.

Also to most likely keep tabs on him, which didn't sit well with the devil of Hell's Kitchen.

The way the Avengers operated created a pit in Matt's stomach. 

The amount of influence and power they possessed, frankly scared Matt. With a simple voice command Ironman could tap into every camera feed in New York and find anyone within a nanosecond. 

Captain America's influence over the every day citizen remained unmatched, as his popularity amongst the American people practically made the man untouchable. Even when he had betrayed the government to run off with the Winter Solider, the public stood by his decisions, never once discrediting his intentions or integrity. He was a god amongst men, even more so than Thor.

Each Avenger possessed something _greater_ than themselves and that was something that deterred Daredevil form joining their ranks.

Matt believed no one should have that much sway or influence over others, not even Earth's mightiest heroes.

He had seen too many times how that level of power and authority could be turned around as quick as a snap of the fingers. How people changed.

It was something he wasn't willing to involve himself in, so each time he teamed up with the Avengers left a pit in his stomach that only increased in size. Matt was a man of instinct and his instincts were telling him to keep to himself.

Besides he was a better fighter when he worked alone. He didn't have to worry about others, didn't have to keep track of his comrades in a fight. It was just him and the thrill of the battle, and in a selfish way he wanted to keep that all to himself.

At least this is what he told himself, until a spider found its way inside his home.

Daredevil's first encounter with Spiderman had been during a team up with the Avengers. He was aware of who Spiderman was, due to the constant news outlets reporting on the red and blue caped crusader. He particularly enjoyed J. Jonah Jameson's podcast when he needed a good laugh.

It had been a simple snatch and grab situation, but it led to so much more.

Matt had been trailing Wilson Fisk and his operation for months. The man was wreaking havoc on the citizens of Hell's Kitchen, but to the public eye and newspaper publications the man was a simple spice trader. No one was bold enough to break the true story about the Kingpin's underground operations. As the protector of Hell's Kitchen Matt had decided to go after Fisk with everything he had. He trailed the man and his cronies, gathering evidence to pursue him legally. He needed to show New York Fisk's true colors if he wanted to beat the man, simply defeating him in battle would not lead to a true victory. Without the evidence to show Fisk's mob influence the man would be free on the streets of New York in no time.

He had been keeping tabs on him for months, even hiring a private investigator a handful of times on the nights he couldn't do it himself. He rather liked the PI, even though she refused to stop drinking on the job. An argument Matt lost spectacularly.

He was close to bringing his case forward to the police when Fisk made a move that surprised him. He kidnapped one of the senator's daughter.

It was one of the nights he was unable to tail Fisk and hired the PI, and she had seen the whole thing, handing the photos over to Matt wordlessly. It seemed as though she didn't care but Matt could feel her heart rate increase, the shaking of her shoulders. She was angry about the situation. She was walking slightly with a limp too, something she didn't have before taking the job. When Matt asked her what happened she brushed it off saying, "Ah, I was drunk and fell off the fire escape. I'm fine, don't worry about it." Matt could tell by the quickening of her heart beat that she was lying but he didn't press the topic. That would be a conversation for another day.

His priority was on getting the girl back, legal pursuit be damned. He wouldn't let Fisk kill this girl even if it meant throwing away months of work. The time to act as Daredevil and not Matt Murdock had come.

The next night Matt suited up, hardened his resolve, and made his way to Fisk's hideout at the old fishing harbor.

The night was filled with noise and lights as Fisk's men patrolled the perimeter of the warehouse. They were armed with machine guns from what Matt could tell, feeling the vibrations shifting around him. He was perched on the roof of a nearby warehouse, mapping out the pattern of the men's movements, trying to think of the most optimal route of getting in undetected when a voice chimed in his ear, "Oh I didn't know you were gonna be here! Mr. Stark didn't mention a team up!"

Daredevil turned around, about two feet away from large bug eyes staring at him excitedly. Spiderman was crouched on the floor, staring at Matt with an air of excitement, and even though he couldn't see the hero's face he could almost see the way his eyes lit up. 

Matt hadn't even noticed the hero land on the roof next to him and wondered how Spiderman had managed to sneak up on him. Nobody snuck up on Matt. 

But he wouldn't give the hero the satisfaction of knowing he had startled him. 

"Spiderman?" Matt questioned, moving to his feet and slinking further down the roof, out of sight from the men below. "Why are you here?"

Spiderman followed suit, slipping further into the shadows to stand close to Daredevil. His heart rate was beating fast, and a little erratic, but in a strange way it seemed to be calm for him. "Uh something about a senator's kid, I think?" Spiderman scratched his head, not entirely sure of who they were on a rescue mission for. "I'm not totally sure, Mr. Stark didn't give me much details... wait, don't you know? I thought we were teaming up!" 

Daredevil clicked his tongue, annoyed. "This is not a team up. I've been working this case for months, _alone_." He emphasized the last word trying to get the arachnid hero to take the hint.

Spiderman, either too stupid or not interested, didn't take the hint. "Alone? Wow! That's impressive, this Fisk guy must be bad news then if he's got your attention."

"He is," Matt said darkly, turning back to his surveillance. "Which is why you need to leave, you'll just get in my way."

"Ouch!" Spiderman said, clutching his heart dramatically. "I didn't mean to make you mad... I definitely don't know as much as you, but I'm here to help! It's good to have allies, right?" He went to sit next to Matt, not seemingly bothered by the man's cold demeanor.

"I work alone," Matt snapped, just as an opportunity came. One of the men below stopped his rotation for a cigarette break. Daredevil could easily take him out and make his way through one of the windows on the fire escape. "Leave before you get hurt." He said, not even looking back at Spiderman as he leapt off the building, grabbing each of the railings of the fire escape on his way down.

He hit the ground, softly breaking into a brisk sprint at the turned back of Fisk's worker. The man didn't even have time to react as Matt took out his baton, hitting the man at the base of his skull, knocking him out cold instantly. He dragged the unconscious man to the side of the warehouse, dumping him unceremoniously in the shadows of the building before quickly ascending the fire escape before any of Fisk's other men could see him. He reached the top and crawled quietly threw the window and could feel the vibrations of his new friend's heartbeat already there.

"Wow! That was so cool," Spiderman whispered low, already sitting on the the rafter. "You were so fast! Like lightning speed, did you know where to hit him to knock him out? Could you teach me?" He was talking a mile a minute, looking at Matt like he was some kind of celebrity.

Somehow Spiderman beating him inside didn't surprise him, it only continued to irritate him.

"I told you to leave." Matt hissed but moved to crouch besides Spiderman as they looked down into the warehouse.

"See Daredevil-Mr. Devil I would but Mr. Stark _told_ me to create a distraction and I don't wanna disappoint him," Spiderman said, apologetic in his voice. "But I think I can help, really! I'm happy to go down there and rile those guys up if you wanna find the girl! I have no problem being the greasy pig in a good ol' fashion hog wrestling if you catch my drift."

Daredevil didn't quite catch his drift. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Spiderman blinked at him. "Ya know, hog wrestling? Where they put oil on a pig and a bunch of dudes try to catch it as it runs around in an arena and they're only allowed to use their bodies..." Daredevil stared at him. "No?? Wow, I'll have to show you some time, it's hilarious!" Spiderman laughed quietly but coughed uncomfortably at Daredevil's icy stare, "But anyways I'm saying I'll go down there and they'll be so busy trying to kill me that you can sneak in and save the girl easy peasy! I'm quite slippery so they won't catch me, and then we'll be done and the rest of the Avengers can handle Fisk and his crew!"

Daredevil did not like that plan. Not even a bit, but before he could protest Spiderman gave him a wave and swan dived right off the rafter into the middle of Fisk's men.

He heard their startled shouts as Spiderman said, "Wow you guys sure live in a shit hole!", then gunfire rang out. 

He cursed, about to jump down into the fray of battle to help out his new comrade but stopped himself. Spiderman was flipping, jumping, and webbing up the men with little quips thrown in here and there. But the thing Matt noticed was that his heart rate didn't change, he was completely in his element. He watched the web slinger, rather impressed at his abilities, before deciding he should actually locate the girl. Spiderman seemed to have things handled.

He made his way into a backroom as Spiderman teased Fisk's men, "All this firepower and no one taught you guys how to aim? Isn't that like the first rule of having a gun?" Matt closed the door just in time as a hail storm of bullets ricocheted off the back wall.

In the room sat a single chair, a young girl tied to it, bound and gagged. Fisk and his men were no where in sight. Matt was quick with releasing her as she was crying profusely on his red suit, and brought her out of the room once the sound of bullets flying ceased.

He was holding her close as they left the backroom, seeing all of Fisk's men either unconscious or webbed to the wall. Spiderman stood in the middle, looking at his handiwork rather impressed.

He looked back to Daredevil and at the girl, and his air of childishness left temporarily as he helped Daredevil walk her out of the building. 

The outside of the warehouse looked about the same as the inside. Fisk's small army were all unconscious, littering the ground like all of the trash in Manhattan. The Avengers stood there, tying up the men as Tony Stark stood on the phone with someone. No doubt the Senator.

Police sirens could be heard in the background, their lights bouncing off the warehouse walls. Daredevil didn't do well with police and didn't want to stick around for a meet and greet.

"Daredevil?" Stark approached him, no longer on the phone. "I'm surprised to see you here... we didn't call you."

"Didn't have to," Matt said, letting Spiderman take the girl fully. Spiderman sat her down, talking with her in a low voice as she continued to weep, no doubt traumatized from her experience. "Fisk is someone I've been keeping an eye on."

Tony quirked an eyebrow, "Is that so? Did you leave him back there?" He tilted his head in the direction of the warehouse Daredevil had rescued the girl from.

"No," Matt said, curtly. "He wasn't here. He's in the wind."

Tony frowned. "Hmm. We'll have to search for him then... as always you're welcome to join us. We could use the help."

Matt turned away, sensing the police coming up to the warehouse now. "And as always Stark I'll have to politely decline, I work better on my own."

"You seemed to work pretty well with Spiderman there," Tony smirked, looking at Peter chatting animatedly with the girl and temporarily distracting her from her ordeal. She had stopped crying and was staring at Spiderman with rapt interest now. 

Matt grunted, not deigning to give Ironman an answer on the topic. "You seem to have things under control, I'll take my leave now."

Tony sighed, clearly unhappy with Daredevil's answers. "Thank you for your help." And with that said Matt was off, slinking into the shadows just as the police force descended upon the place, taking over the crime scene.

Later on in the night, Matt was sitting on a rooftop in Hell's Kitchen when he heard Spiderman approaching. The already familiar heartbeat filled his senses as he turned to face the hero. "What you did back there was reckless."

Spiderman paused, looking confused. "Reckless?"

"Yes, reckless," Daredevil said, deadpanned. "You had not properly surveyed the area before making your move."

"I... I mean," Spiderman looked flustered, realizing what Daredevil said was right. "Yeah but we saved the girl! So it worked out."

"You're right... this time it did work out, but what if there had been men in the room with her. What if Fisk had her at gunpoint. Things would have gone differently. You could've cost her her life."

Spiderman seemed frozen and his heart skipped a beat. Daredevil had struck a nerve in him. 

"You clearly view this line of work like a game, and that makes you dangerous." Matt said with a finality, turning his back on the hero. "You need to decide why you're doing this, before you get someone killed."

Matt was about to leave when Spiderman's small voice stopped him. "You're right."

He turned back, looking at the despondent hero. He stood, shoulders sagging, hands fiddling with each other. "I-I was trying to impress you so I acted without thinking. I didn't think about the girl's-Laura's safety. My actions could've gotten her hurt." His words held a sincerity to them and it surprised Matt.

If he had spoken to any of the other Avengers in this manner he was sure he'd be on their shit list from now until the end of time. They would tell him to leave, tell him he didn't know what it meant to be a hero, because nobody questioned them and their motives.

And here was Matt telling another Avenger he thought they were reckless, and they were man enough to admit Matt was right. Spiderman was willing to see his own faults.

It shocked Matt. "Impress me? Why?"

Spiderman twisted his hands further, looking uncomfortable. "I um, I-I just think you're cool and what you do for Hell's Kitchen is important. I meant all the things I said earlier." Spiderman rambled, "I know I'm technically apart of the Avengers but I mainly work solo too and I just really look up to what you're doing, and all by yourself! So I wanted to show you that I'm dependable in battle as well but I guess I blew it huh?" 

Spiderman turned away, shoulders hunched in disappointment. Disappointment at himself. 

"I promise I won't behave recklessly anymore and I won't bother you either... thank you for telling me what I did wrong."

With that said Spiderman left, shooting a web off and swinging off into the night. Matt stood there on the roof for a good time, absorbing what Spiderman said. And with the words sitting in the chilly night air, Matt made a decision.

He found Spiderman a week later in midtown, sitting on a rooftop, gazing out at the setting sun. Spiderman's head shot up at Daredevil's entrance, his bug eyes growing wide.

"Dare-Mr. Devil?"

Matt winced... Mr. Devil? What the hell was that.

"Daredevil is fine."

Spiderman jumped to his feet, "I-I didn't know you were here. I'm sorry, I'll leave!" He made to move but Matt reached out, grabbing Spiderman's shoulder to keep him in place. "Don't leave. I came here to talk to you."

"Really?" The web slinger sounded surprised. "Why?"

Daredevil sat on the ledge and waited till Spiderman joined him. The sky was tinted in a brilliant haze of orange and red, and the sun was already sinking below the skyscrapers decorating the horizon of New York. It was rare to see such a sunset in Manhattan. 

"I thought about you... after you left." Matt said slow, he was never good at expressing his feelings, especially to someone he didn't know. "It takes someone with real character to admit to their shortcomings."

Spiderman said nothing, waiting for Matt to finish speaking, but Matt could feel his heart rate increase. He was nervous of what Matt would say.

"That's not something a lot of people possess, myself included sometimes," Daredevil sighed. "Its something important in our line of work, it's what will keep us from making mistakes... mistakes that could cost people their lives."

Spiderman sucked in a breath. 

"What I'm trying to say kid is that I think you have a lot of potential. I'd like to help you achieve it."

Spiderman's eyes grew even wider. "What does that mean?"

"I'd like to train you if you're up for it."

Spiderman suddenly jumped to his feet, excitement electrifying his whole body. "Holy shit! Yeah-yes, that'd be awesome!"

Daredevil couldn't help a small smile lifting the corners of his mouth, but he dropped it quick and covered it up with a cough. 

"Wow! When do we start, are you gonna teach me how to pistol whip someone? That was so cool-"

"We start tomorrow," Daredevil cut the excitable hero off. "We're going to focus on discipline... the pistol whip will come later." He cracked a smile at that and Spiderman nodded, ecstatic.

"Okay, okay! Yeah... discipline, sounds good! I won't disappoint you I promise-"

"Alright take it easy kid, this won't be easy you know?" Daredevil snipped, a little annoyed at the over eagerness of his new student.

Spiderman looked undeterred though by Daredevil's standoffish attitude. "I know and I'm ready! It wouldn't be real training if it wasn't hard. My training with the Avengers is always har-" Spiderman stopped yapping, looking pensive for a second before snapping, "Hey! Why did you call me a kid? I'm not a kid."

Daredevil blinked, "Because you are."

"No... my name is Spider _man_ , not Spiderkid." He huffed, puffing his chest out, further proving Daredevil right.

Daredevil just shrugged, "Okay... not a kid, got it." If the kid wanted to pretend to be an adult Matt would let him. He didn't particularly care about Spiderman's age. He had seen what he was capable of and wanted to help cultivate his potential. In a way, too, he wanted to pull Spiderman out from under the Avenger's influence. He wanted to see what kind of hero the kid would become on his own, away from the influence of those with unchecked power.

He wanted to see if Spiderman could be what this city needed most. A person always willing to do the right thing, but more importantly someone who wouldn't cross the line no matter what. 

And that night was the beginning of his relationship with Spiderman. For over a year he trained the kid secretly, unknown to the Avengers, and worked on showing the kid some discipline. Spiderman was a fast learner and a year of training and working as a superhero had transformed him.

He was no longer the over-eager, reckless youth but a seasoned hero with a number of takedowns under his belt that impressed even Matt. Spiderman had even assisted him in his fight against Fisk and a few months ago, Matt Murdock, the lawyer, was able to present his case against Fisk to the court. After a long and arduous trial the jury had found Fisk guilty on all counts and sentenced him to life in prison.

Fisk had attempted an escape from the courthouse and Spiderman had been there to stop him, incapacitating the villain in the middle of Manhattan. Fisk was strung up on a billboard, throwing profanities at Spiderman as the cops came to take Fisk away. Spiderman had winked at Matt before swinging off, disappearing behind a skyscraper. 

Matt couldn't help but laugh at the teen's antics and was able to have his first night of actual rest knowing that Fisk was going away. Knowing that he had stopped a man hellbent on destroying his city, and he had done it legally and justly. And he did it with some help.

But for all the time Matt spent with Spiderman he spent an equal amount of time with the Avengers, especially Tony Stark. Matt never commented on Spiderman's relationship with the Avengers but he couldn't help but feel uneasy each time they were mentioned.

He felt something coiling under his skin each time Stark's name came from Spiderman's mouth, but he couldn't quite place a finger on the feeling. It sat under his skin, twisting and seething, and he could feel himself grow cold with the boy each time the Avengers were brought up.

Spiderman, having picked up on Daredevil's attitude, soon stopped mentioning them altogether whenever he spent time with the devil of Hell's Kitchen. He stopped asking if they would team up or if Matt would join the Avengers. He wasn't sure why Daredevil had an issue with the Avengers and he was too scared to ask. Worried Matt would ditch him if he pressed him on it.

Their relationship started to grow a bit rocky after Fisk's arrest. Spiderman always showed up to their training sessions but the boy seemed to be on edge, always choosing his words carefully, which was uncharacteristic of him. Matt didn't address it though, as he preferred to not speak his emotions into existence, and had elected to ignore the growing distance between the two.

As long as Spiderman showed up, there wasn't a problem in Matt's mind.

This continued on for a month until a day came when Spiderman didn't show up.

Matt was waiting at their usual spot, tuning into the sounds of the bustling city and listening for that familiar heartbeat he had gotten so acquainted with in the past year. But half an hour passed and Spiderman was no where to be seen. Sometimes the boy was late, as he would stop on the way over if he came across someone needing help, but he was never this late. Matt had told him the importance of keeping a schedule and being on time, and Spiderman made a point to show up on time after that talk. 

He looked out across the buildings, searching with his senses for his student, but Spiderman was no where to be found. Annoyed now, Matt tried calling him but it went straight to voicemail. He called a few more times with the same response. Snarling, he hung up the last call, not bothering to leave a voicemail, and left the rooftop. Avengers Tower shone out in the sky, and the red A glared angrily on Daredevil. Mocking him.

Spiderman had chosen the Avengers.

Matt made his way home, that same feeling shifting under his skin, and slammed the door to his apartment shut, almost taking the door off its hinges. He tore his mask from his face and ran a ragged hand through his hair. Why was he so angry? It shouldn't be bothering him this much that Spiderman didn't show up for their training session, Matt had other things he could be doing anyways. He didn't need the training either, it was for Spiderman's benefit so if the kid decided he no longer needed them there was nothing Matt could do. He shouldn't be mad about it, really... but he was and he didn't understand why.

His phone rang and he picked it up with no hesitation.

"Where are you?" He hissed into the receiver. There was a pause on the other line as the person answered, "... Uh at home, dude. Why?"

The person calling him was definitely not Spiderman. He took a breath, calming his temper, and composed himself before answering, "Sorry Foggy. I was expecting a call from someone else... what's going on?"

"You've been hanging with that Spiderman guy, right?" Foggy asked, sounding a bit breathless on the other line. 

Matt never told his friends that he was training Spiderman but when paparazzi photos had shown the two together on more than one occasion his friends had asked about the web slinger and Matt had told them a half truth, that he and Spiderman worked together sometimes. It wasn't a lie per se, but it wasn't his place to tell his friends he was training Spiderman. He wasn't sure how the other hero would feel about people knowing about their relationship.

"Sometimes... why?" Matt asked, something cold prickling at the back of his neck.

"Turn on the news," was all Foggy said and Matt's heart sunk, the coldness intensifying. His hand was shaking as he picked up the remote and put the local news channel on.

_"Local reports are now coming in about the fight at Midtown's construction site where the Avengers faced off with the Sinister Six. Reports are still unclear on how the fight began, but police are informing us that no one has been harmed. The Avengers were able to keep all of the civilians involved safe during the fight, but during what appears to be a small man-made tornado the Sinister Six were able to escape. No sightings of the men have been reported but even more interestingly Spiderman seems to have disappeared along with the Sinister Six. The hero was seen battling at the construction site alongside his fellow Avengers but has now vanished. None of the Avengers have commented on Spiderman's whereabouts and we will continue to report more on this situation as it develops..."_

The reporter droned on but Matt tuned her out, hand holding the phone now shaking. 

"Matt... are you okay?" Foggy asked on the other end but Daredevil didn't answer his friend. All he could think of was Spiderman. Of Peter.

During one of their sparring sessions Spiderman had told him his real name. He was bent over, panting and over exerted from fighting Matt. He was smiling behind the mask and said, "You know you don't have to keep calling me Spiderman." Matt had been confused at that, "Well, what should I call you then?" 

Spiderman straightened up and said with all the trust in the world. "Peter. My name's Peter." Matt smiled and nodded. "Alright, Peter it is." Spiderman brightened at Daredevil saying his name and asked, "Well, what should I call you?"

"Daredevil."

"What?" Peter blanched, "You mean you won't tell me your name!"

"No."

Peter threw himself to the mat dramatically, "Oh my god dude you're such an asshole!"

Matt chuckled at that, "So I've been told. Are you ready for round six?"

Spiderman jumped back up into fighting stance like he had never left it. "Yeah, and I'm gonna kick your ass this time _Daredevil_." Matt smiled, saying nothing and aimed a swift kick at Spiderman's legs. The kid jumped out of the way before aiming a sweep kick for Matt's own legs. They fell right back into their sparring session but even though he was tired he felt a bit lighter at knowing he had Spiderman's complete trust.

Now as Matt stood alone in his apartment, his friend calling for him over the phone, he realized he never told Peter his own name.

And now he might never get the chance to.

Days had gone by without sight of Spiderman and the media was spinning all kinds of tales. The enjoyment he once got from J. Jonah Jameson's insane podcast now brought nothing but rage. The man had started talking of Spiderman deserting New York, its citizens, of being a coward.

Clearly the man had no idea who Spiderman was.

But even with the media and the citizens of New York turning against Spiderman the worst was the Avengers. They never made a statement, never tried to clear Spiderman's name, and that felt worse than any lie the media said about Daredevil's student.

Logically Daredevil knew the Avengers were looking for Spiderman. They were spending all of their time and effort into locating their fellow Avenger, but the logic didn't stop Daredevil from cursing their names, from feeling hatred boiling up inside at their silence.

He let the hatred fuel him as he spent every night looking for Peter.

He went after anyone who had a connection to the Sinister Six. It didn't matter how small or trivial it may seem. Daredevil tracked down every possible lead, making men talk until they were blue in the face. He spent a week doing exactly this until he came to the conclusion that nobody knew where the Sinister Six were. Most of them didn't even believe they had Spiderman.

But Matt knew different. It was the only thing that made _sense_. It was the only place Peter could be. The only question he couldn't answer was why.

Why would the Sinister Six take Spiderman? There was no reason to keep him this long, no reason not to kill him.

Daredevil knew the way those men felt about Peter. He could see it on their faces anytime he assisted Peter in a fight against them. They tried to kill Daredevil, sure, but they _really_ tried to kill Spiderman. All of their attacks centered on incapacitating him, all of their rage was directed towards him. They hated the wall crawler more than anyone else.

So why keep him alive?

And Matt was sure Peter was alive, if they decided to kill Spiderman they would have made it a spectacle. Would've strung his body outside of city hall for all of New York to see. They would make it known to the world that they were the ones responsible for ridding the world of Spiderman.

The only conclusion Matt could draw was they were holding him hostage, but he wasn't sure why.

The Avengers holing themselves up, not dealing with the public backlash, was more telling to Matt. They were keeping their tactics to themselves and Matt thought that possibly the Sinister Six were holding Spiderman for ransom, and asking Tony Stark for something in return for the hero's safety.

He just didn't know what they could want.

But as much as he tried to answer these questions he always came up short and time was running out. There was nothing to say that Peter was even being kept in New York, the Sinister Six could have taken him out of the state, hell they could've taken him out of the country but something sat wrong with him when he thought about that.

His instincts were telling him that Peter was in New York and he was close. That made it all the worse somehow.

A couple of weeks after Spiderman's disappearance Matt found himself in the old fishing harbor, standing on the same rooftop where he had first met Spiderman. Where Peter had snuck up on him... he still never figured out how he managed to do that. He sat there with his thoughts, late into the night, when a metallic smell hit him. It was faint and subtle but the breeze had carried it on the wind and it was unmistakable.

The smell of blood lingered in the air.

Matt shot up, following the scent as he climbed down the building and headed into the alleys below. Most people wouldn't be able to smell something like that but years of being a vigilante and his enhanced senses made Matt quite familiar with the smell.

He followed the trail, seeing dried specks dotting along the pavement. He took his batons out, and kept low to the ground. Body tensing, preparing for what would be at the end of the trail.

The patches grew darker and thicker as Matt continued to follow. It weaved in and out of alleyways, growing larger with each new alley he walked through. And soon enough Matt came to the end of the trail, a large puddle of blood sitting at a dead end. 

Matt kept his wits about him as he surveyed the area, looking for any potential threats, or the victim of whosever blood that was, but silence hung in the air and the moon sat in the sky unwavering. Nobody was around.

He went back to the alleyway and noticed the marks on the ground where it looked like someone had been dragged, the patches smeared on the ground. He bent down, inspecting it closer, and found some of it to still be wet. 

Whatever happened here was recent, and someone needed help. 

A light breeze caressed the back of Matt's neck and with it came a horrifying thought. One that took hold of him and planted roots. He took off like a shot, sprinting towards the upper east side, towards the giant A glaring down at him. The thought bounced around his head, in his bones, and propelled Matt forward with a speed he didn't know he possessed.

He crossed rooftops with reckless abandon, adrenaline singing in his veins, and the thought's roots grew, entering his heart, turning it to stone. 

He jumped from his last rooftop to the street, and ran to the glass doors, pounding. 

It only took a moment for the cameras to turn on him and a voice to ring out, "Daredevil, what brings you to Avengers Tower?" The voice was pleasant and feminine, one Matt didn't recognize.

"Get me Stark," He shouted, "I need to speak with him now."

"Boss is asleep at the moment I'm afraid, perhaps you can try coming-"

"It's about Spiderman!" Daredevil shouted, cutting off the woman. "Get me Stark for fucks sake!"

The woman said nothing, the line having gone quiet. Daredevil was about to take his baton out and smash the camera to get her attention again when the light in the lobby turned on and Stark stepped out of the elevator.

He was wearing gray sweats and a plain black tee with no shoes on. His hair was pushed in every direction and the bags under his eyes looked like he was sporting shiners, his face looked taut and lean like he hadn't eaten in a while, and his eyes were red from lack of sleep. But there was an urgency to his movement as he practically ran across the lobby, opened the door, and pulled Daredevil in. He was breathless and his eyes were wide as he gripped Matt's forearms as if it was the only thing keeping him upright.

"Tell me!" Stark said, voice caught in his throat. His usual confidence was completely gone as he stood before Matt, desperate. Any other time Matt would've felt smug at it, triumphant even, but he felt just as Stark looked. 

Scared.

"Can you analyze a blood sample?" Matt asked quickly, saying the words as fast as he could as if his idea would disappear if he wasn't quick about it.

Tony looked puzzled, "Of course, why do you need that?"

"At the old fishing harbor, down near Hell's Kitchen there's a blood trail... and there's a lot of it. Nobody was around and I couldn't find signs of a struggle."

Stark's eyes narrowed. "What the fuck does this have to do with Spiderman?"

Matt brushed off Stark's anger and answered, "I think there's a possibility that it's Spiderman's blood."

Tony sucked in a breath, the anger gone. "Why do you think that?"

To that Matt didn't have a concrete answer, there was no proof the blood belonged to Spiderman, no reason to come to that conclusion, but the thought taking root was taking over and he couldn't explain it. It was just a feeling he had, and Matt had learned through years of being Daredevil, of being a lawyer, to always trust his gut.

"Trust me, Stark. I wouldn't come here if I didn't think it was his."

Tony stared at him, arms dropping from Daredevil's shoulders, and something set in his eyes as he beckoned Daredevil forward towards the elevator. "Come on, let's gather the team."

Matt followed without hesitation, going up to the Avengers living quarters and figuratively following Stark into the belly of the beast.

And the feeling that was sitting under his skin, twisting in his veins returned as he stared at Ironman and for once he was able to place a name to the feeling.

The elevator stopped and Tony walked out with Daredevil, with the rest of the Avengers already gathered around, in pajamas of their own, looking just as tired and haggard as Stark. Tony motioned for Matt to speak and as Matt looked out to the group of people he distrusted with his entire being, the name of the feeling filled him up completely.

Jealousy. Jealousy over their relationship with Peter. The same feeling that had caused the deterioration in his own relationship with the kid. The feeling that had blinded him and caused him to do the very thing he had told Peter not to be a year ago.

Reckless. 

So as Matt stood there, jealousy raging in his veins, he swallowed it and told his story about what he found at the harbor. Told them everything he knew.

He realized in that moment that working alone would get him no where, no where close to finding Peter. He needed to team up. Team up with people he swore he never would again.

Because it wasn't about him, it was about Spiderman. It was about bringing Peter home, and Matt would willingly join the Avengers and sacrifice his beliefs to find him.

It was a line he didn't know he was willing to cross until he was pushed over it. And now... there was no going back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! I didn't think I was gonna include Daredevil in this until I started writing this chapter but I'm happy he's apart of the story now! Let me know your guys' thoughts ^^


	11. Crimson Rose

_"Therefore the moon, the governess of floods, Pale in her anger, washes all the air, That rheumatic diseases do abound And thorough this distemperature we see. The seasons alter: hoary-headed frosts Fall in the fresh lap of the crimson rose”_ \- Shakespeare, A Midsummer's Night's Dream

Peter dreamt of blue skies, dotted with white clouds, and a breeze on the air that kissed his cheeks. His toes were buried in the sand as his hands dug far down enough that the sand turned cool to the touch. He paused his digging long enough to look towards the voice that called his name. Blue eyes crinkled in warmth and laughter as Peter ran up, slipping on the sand, and running into the open arms of his aunt. The rides of Coney Island sounded like song birds on the open air as Aunt May ruffled Peter's hair. Aunt May's hands sat warm and rough on his scalp as the sun beat down on Peter's back, basking him in a golden light and glinting oh so lovingly off of Aunt May's eyes. Her mouth moved but her words seemed to be lost as the sounds of the amusement park rose to a deafening screech, causing Peter to clasp his hands over his ears, desperate to block the sound out. The golden sunlight started to shift as an icy blue overtook the landscape, turning the world cold, and the sand morphed into glass cutting Peter's feet. He looked to Aunt May's eyes, panicked, and saw the cobalt blue turn darker until her irises were completely lost in the abyss. Her smile still sat there as blood oozed from her eyes falling into Peter's lap. The once comfort of Aunt May's hands in his hair became constricting, as the hands tightened, squeezing. She laughed as Peter screamed, the noise lost as the machine gears pounded in Peter's ears. Aunt May's mouth moved again but he couldn't decipher what she was saying as the pain became too much and Peter felt lost in her soulless black eyes, drowning and drowning and _drowning_. He fell upwards into the light, leaving Aunt May behind, who only waved once before Peter disappeared behind the clouds, caught in the sky. His vision turned white, hearing an unfamiliar sound as he was pulled further up until there was no where higher to go.

Peter awoke, slow. The white clouds still filling his vision as a figure moved above him. The figure was a blurry outline and moved around him, not giving Peter a moment to focus. He heard shuffling and could feel the familiarity of cotton beneath his fingers. His body felt frozen, unable to move, and the thought of trying to move brought on a new wave of exhaustion. He felt his lips move but was unsure if anything came out of them. The figure seemed to notice though as it returned to Peter's side, now leaning over him further casting a shadow over Peter's eyesight. The outline remained but a warm, reassuring hand fell upon his forehead and he sighed in relief at the touch. The hand, just like the cotton, felt familiar and a pair of blue eyes flashed before his mind. His cheeks felt strangely wet, although he wasn't quite sure why, and this time he could hear himself say the name of someone, someone he felt he ought to remember but his voice was no louder than a whisper, and felt even smaller than that, as it came out lost. Peter unable to hear his own words. The figure said nothing but moved the hand through Peter's hair, slow and gentle, soothing him. Peter closed his eyes once again, relishing the feeling of physical touch before he was falling back down through the clouds and landed on solid ground.

Peter dreamt of Avengers Tower. He sat on the couch with Star Wars playing on the TV and the usual chatter lilted through the air like a good song on the radio. Sam and Clint sat on the couch besides Peter, providing commentary for the movie that slowly morphed into playful bickering. Natasha and Bruce stood in the kitchen, enjoying a nice cup of coffee, talking with one another in low voices, small smiles present on both of their faces, looking as calm as the morning sea. Steve and Bucky sat in the chairs trying to concentrate on the movie and shooting Sam and Clint annoyed looks every once in a while in a begging manner for the men to be quiet. Peter smiled at the commotion, at the normalcy of the room. He felt in those moments like everything was right with the world. The movie stopped and Peter turned to his comrades, confused, but they were gone. He sat on the couch alone, the kitchen leaving no trace of Natasha and Bruce except for their cold coffee cups, and the chairs sat empty when he turned to look. Peter got to his feet, worry and confusion gnawing his insides. He called for them but nobody answered. He ran to each of their rooms, throwing doors open, but no one lay inside. He called for F.R.I.D.A.Y and she remained as silent as the rooms he searched. Blind panic seized him as he ran to the landing pad, his socks doing nothing to help protect him from the chill of the metal floor. He saw Ironman there, standing with his back to Peter. He called out for him but the man said nothing. Peter ran forward, steps slapping the ground in a rough rhythm as he reached a hand towards Tony. Ironman jumped into the air, never turning to face Peter, only saying, "Follow me," before shooting off into the sky. Peter made to leap after him but found he couldn't. He stood on the edge screaming for Tony as the cold of the night sat on his skin, chilling him to the bone. Ironman became nothing more than a red dot in the sky as Peter continued to scream until his voice gave out completely. 

Peter awoke, again, a red dot dancing across his vision. He blinked it away, hearing voices surrounding him. The room remained blurry and unstable, shifting before him as if he were in a revolving room. Nothing sat upright, not even the faces that leaned over him. They were talking and the sounds they made sounded no more coherent than static on the radio. Peter felt upset at this, wanting to know what they were saying. He tried to move, to sit up, so that he could orient himself. A strong hand pushed on his shoulder, keeping him down, and Peter whimpered at the feeling. He wanted to sit up. He felt his fingers grip the wrist of the hand, weakly pulling at it but another hand reached out and ripped his arm away. Peter cried at that, not understanding why these hands wouldn't let him sit up. Everything still swam before him and the faces looked like a spinning mobile above a crib, constantly moving, never taking a moment to rest. He was starting to make out certain features. Goggles, black eyes, bleach blonde hair, a taut mouth, all of them morphing together into one swirl. The hands encircled him, touching his head, his shoulders, his arms and the sensation prickled his skin. He didn't like it and further whimpered to voice his displeasure at the sensation, writhing under the hands to get them to leave. Just when he felt like the touching would drive him mad, an iciness entered his skin, sitting underneath the surface, and he stopped squirming only to be dragged back down to his familiar depths.

Peter dreamt of rooftops. He jumped from each one, the wind rushing up to meet him in a playful dance, and his feet always landing solidly before springing off into another leap. Absolute joy filled his entire being as he whooped into the air, the wind carrying it across Manhattan. He reached a hand out and a web shot forward, landing perfectly on a nearby building before Peter jumped, holding onto the web as his body arched through the air. He let the swing carry him upwards until he couldn't go any higher and let go, letting his body hang with what felt like an eternity until he was free falling. He spread his arms out in a dive and let gravity carry him to Earth, the cars and taxis of the road growing bigger the longer he fell. At the last possible second he shot another hand forward allowing the web to pull him up and he landed on the side of a skyscraper, staring into the reflection. He stopped as the reflection staring back at him wasn't his own but Daredevil's. His hand trailed up to red eyes and red horns. He touched surprised lips that felt rough even with his gloves on. He stared, shock slithering up his spine, slow and painful, and the lips moved as Daredevil's voice came from his throat, "Peter... where are you?" Peter tried to answer, tried to say anything but the mouth closed and refused to open. He hit the window and Daredevil's hand mirrored his own. He continued to punch in replacement of his words until the glass broke beneath his fist, shattering and slicing his arms. Daredevil's face fell away, trapped in the glass shards as they plummeted to the streets, and Peter fell with them.

Peter awoke, warm. His whole body felt warm, even his head, as he looked around him. His vision was sharper than the last time he was awake but everything still felt fuzzy, his thoughts especially, but Peter clung to the warmness. It felt good and he reveled in the feeling. A shadow fell over him and he was able to make out brown eyes and brown hair, tousled and unkept. The man's hands fell on Peter's cheek and Peter sighed contently. The hand further added to the warmth and Peter loved it. The man was saying things and Peter could make out a few words, "...How... feeling." Peter smiled, hoping that would answer the man's question and the man smiled back, happy with the non-verbal answer. Another person entered the room and the only distinguishing thing Peter could make out was that the man was large. He could hear the smaller man talk with the bigger one but he closed his eyes, content as the hand still stayed on his cheek. Peter felt himself dozing when the hand abruptly left his cheek and he opened his eyes, unhappy with the lack of warmth. The large man stood before him, wrapping his arms around Peter's body to lift him up. Peter's own arms reached up to encircle the man's neck to help him with the lift and he was happy to be surrounded by even more body heat. The man had eased Peter into his arms and Peter swore he had never felt so good before, so relaxed and content. He wished he could stay like that forever, maybe things weren't so bad being fuzzy if he could feel like this always. 

His head rested against the man's chest and his arms never left the man's neck, clinging to him like a child would their parent. A new hand found its way in Peter's hair and he mumbled his approval, his eyes closing to better focus on the feeling. He heard a voice and this time could make out the full sentence, "You're doing so good." Peter liked the praise, happy that he was doing something right. He didn't know what but he was happy he did it. Everything just felt good and hazy. His head felt like cotton and his body like jelly but the support of the body carrying him kept him grounded. They must have been walking because Peter was soon being set down on a soft surface and he pouted at the loss of contact. He opened his eyes, realizing he was sitting on a couch... it seemed almost familiar but Peter couldn't focus his thoughts. They slipped away before they could even be fully formed and he could only discern the desire for the warmth.

He reached out towards the man again but he was gone with only the smaller one standing before him. Brown eyes looked pleased, staring at Peter's wanting hand, before allowing the boy to encircle his arms around his torso, embracing him. Peter sighed happily, the body heat returning to him, bringing him further into the haziness. He hugged the smaller man as his voice rumbled against Peter's chest, "You seem to be in a good mood." 

"Mmm," Peter mused, "You're warm."

The man chuckled, "Oh is that what this is? Here, I thought you were just happy to see me."

"Happy..." Peter echoed, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth, "Mmm yeah, I feel good."

The man chuckled again. "I'm sure you do, I gave you something to relax you."

Peter's eyebrows scrunched at that, sensing something wrong at the statement, but the mans arms wrapped around Peter himself and he melted into the touch, the warmth intensifying. He sighed contentedly, "Yeah relaxed, I feel... nice."

One of the man's hands lifted into Peter's hair, running through it and Peter just about melted entirely. His body completely relaxed into the touch and his smile turned goofy. He didn't think any feeling in the world could compare to right now. 

"I'm glad you're feeling good... but I think the drug is too strong. This isn't the way I thought you would behave." The hand never stopped moving through Peter's hair, and the words the man spoke seemed far away to Peter. He wasn't sure about drugs or behavior, he wasn't sure about much of anything in that moment. He didn't answer but found he didn't need to as the man kept talking on his own, "I'll have to modify it before I try again. I'm afraid the next time you wake won't be as pleasant as this one."

Peter felt something cutting through the fog, sharp and blaring, and he felt himself frown at that. He didn't want this disturbance to his peace and he fought against it, sinking back into the warmth and the ministrations of the hand in his hair. Whatever was trying to talk to him could wait as he said in a whiny voice, "Don't wanna."

He was talking more to the noise in his head but the man snorted in amusement, "I know Peter, but it's necessary... don't worry though, we'll take care of you."

The man pulled him closer and Peter closed his eyes, satisfied. He felt himself being pulled back into sleep and was able to mutter out a simple, "Okay," before he was unconscious once more.

Peter dreamt of an ocean, dark and knowing. He stood on the shore, feet on the edge as wave after wave lapped over him. He stared out to the horizon seeing nothing but the stars and moon blinking back at him. He stood there, empty and thoughtless, feeling more adrift than ever before. He looked down into the moving waves that suddenly stilled, showing his reflection as clear as any mirror would. His skin looked paler then he remembered it to be and dark bags sat like crescents under his eyes. His eyes themselves looked lost and waiting, waiting on something he wasn't quite sure of. He looked back out to the sea at a figure standing amongst its horizon, back facing Peter. It turned around slow, bathed in the brilliance of the moon, and those eyes he longed to see stared at him with all of the love in the world. The man held his hand forward, urging Peter to come, and Peter left the shore with no hesitation as he ran towards the open arms of his uncle. He ran forward, salt water splashing around his legs, slowing him down, but he kept pushing forward. The water was rising higher with every step he took as Ben made no move forward, simply waiting for Peter to reach him as he stood there patiently. His clothes weighed him down, now logged with water, and the ocean was now at his chest cutting through him like the first freeze of winter. He kept moving forward, pushing through the water that felt like cement. Ben looked at him, waiting, never wavering as he believed with all of his heart Peter would reach him. He always had faith in Peter and that faith was what kept Peter going. What kept Peter moving always, what made Peter Spiderman. The water was in his mouth, choking him, filling his lungs with salt and darkness but he kept going, his eyes firmly on Ben's hand. He needed to reach him, needed to save him. He couldn't let him go, not again. Not after everything Peter had learned, everything Peter fought for. Peter never thought of himself, never took any time for his own desires, and because of his constant selflessness he never dared to want anything. But seeing Ben in that alley, seeing Ben now just inches from him, Peter opened himself to _wanting_. He let himself want as his eyes fell beneath the water and something grabbed his foot dragging him down, his hands reached out in a desperate attempt to grab Ben's but missed them as the water kissed the tips of his fingers. He let himself open his heart and demand something for once in his life. He convulsed beneath the waves, vision turning black as he looked at his uncle still standing on the surface, eyes never leaving Peter's. He let himself tell the universe that he deserved something. And as his vision became lost he let that demand ring out to whatever force was listening.

He demanded his uncle back, and he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

Peter awoke to darkness. He startled awake, shooting up in bed, clammy and chest tight. He took in large gulps of air, grateful for the ease on his lungs and tried to let his eyes adjust. 

Except that they didn't. His entire vision stayed black and he touched his eyes just to make sure they were open. He used his hands to feel around him, the iron frame of the bed sat cold in juxtaposition to the warm sheets of the bed. He felt around to the edge of the bed and placed his feet warily to the floor, testing the sturdiness of it before continuing forward. He decided to crawl, in case there was anything in his path that he could bump into. He used his hands to feel in front of him before inching forward slowly across the floor, feeling the dust cake his sweaty palms. 

He crawled forward until he felt a wall as concrete as the floor. He moved along it until he felt a different texture beneath his palm, it was also cold but was unmistakably metal. He moved up it until his hand bumped into something hard. He grabbed onto it recognizing it as a handle, he must've reached the door of the room. He twisted and pulled but the door remained shut. He twisted and pushed to the same outcome. His hands turned into fists as he pounded on the door, the sound bouncing off the room loud and harsh.

"Hello!" Peter called out, nerves feeling frazzled and desperate, not understanding why he was in this place.

He continued to pound and hissed at the pain that shot through his shoulder. He gripped it, feeling it in the dark, and the rigged bumps of stitches greeted him. He tried to remember what happened but his thoughts felt sluggish like when you're abruptly awoken during a nap that lasted too long. He was disoriented and the strange environment he woke up in didn't help. 

He switched to his other hand and continued to knock, calling out, "Hello? Please, someone answer me!"

He continued to knock on the door until his knocking slowed and his exhaustion called for him to stop. If anyone was listening to him on the other side they didn't answer as Peter was left alone in the dark, tired and scared.

He sat with his back against the door, chin on his knees and arms wrapped around his legs. He tried to remain calm and sort through his memories, but every time he saw flashes of something familiar it disappeared even quicker than it appeared. His memories were like oil on glass, constantly slipping off and it continued to build an anxiousness in him that grew.

Peter decided he didn't like the dark a long time ago. It wasn't that he was scared of it necessarily, but it was definitely something that made him feel uneasy. The dark felt all encompassing and brought up memories for Peter that he rather not revisit. They felt like the monsters under the bed, finding their way out with claws reaching over the covers, ready to tear into flesh. They thrived in the darkness and so Peter never spent too long in it. Never sought it out. But now being trapped it in there was no escaping its claws, or the grip it had on his already fragile mind.

He closed his eyes, somehow preferring the darkness behind his closed lids than the darkness surrounding him. He focused on his breathing, trying to keep the oncoming panic attack from overtaking him. His own breath felt suffocating to him though and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as he squeezed them shut even harder. He could see a face behind his eyes, wrinkled and always warm with a small smile. Blue eyes tender as they seemed to gaze out at him through the darkness and the memory of what happened consumed Peter.

He let out a shaking sob, guttural and raw as it enveloped him just as the darkness did. He drew his knees to his chest even further as tears rolled down his face, dripping off his chin. He could still see Ben's face as the sobs wracked his body.

He could see Ben standing in that alleyway crying at the sight of his nephew. Could hear Ben's words echoing in his ears, playing back like a broken record. Could feel Ben's gaze on him and Peter shook as he sobbed openly, and he felt like a wounded solider. He felt so incredibly defeated as he wondered where his uncle was and what had happened to him.

And Peter was reminded of the Sinister Six capturing him once again as footsteps sounded outside the door and Peter scrambled backwards just in time for it to open. Light blinded him as he sat on his knees before Doc Ock, who looked at him curiously. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the newfound light and he rubbed at them, pushing the tears away as well. 

Doc Ock walked in, leaving the door open as he looked down at Peter, arms crossed behind his back. He seemed unconcerned of Peter trying to escape, but his arms slithered forward surrounding the teenager, standing by as a warning that Peter was not in control. Octavius was.

Now with the light to help him see Peter realized he was back in the same room he had woken up in once before. The room in the basement with no windows and only a door, and this time the Sinister Six hadn't left any electric candles behind for him. They had purposefully left him to wake up in the dark. The thought sat heavy in his stomach as he stared up, wide eyed, at his captor. 

"You're finally awake..." Doc Ock said, tone bland as if he were discussing the weather. "I told you it would not be as pleasant this time."

Peter had no idea what the doctor was talking about, he didn't remember any conversation he had with the doctor about waking up. It honestly didn't matter to him, all he needed was to know where Ben was, if the Sinister Six had captured him too. 

He felt shaky as he asked, "W-what happened?"

Doctor Octopus scratched at his chin and asked instead of answering, "What do you remember?"

Which was a good question in all fairness. Mainly Peter remembered Ben but what led him to the alleyway remained fuzzy. The pain in his shoulder nagged at him and his hand went to grab it unconsciously as he wracked his brain to remember what happened before he saw Ben. He could remember bits and pieces like the feeling of running, climbing, and jumping. He remembered Rhino roaring and Electro screaming. He remembered a red dot in the midnight sky flying away from him, and he remembered feeling devastated, weak, and crumbling.

He remembered feeling beaten. 

But he didn't want to say those things to Doc Ock, didn't want to speak them aloud and make them feel even more real and tangible. He wanted to bury it far down where he didn't have to face it. Not for a while at least.

"I... I don't know." He said, gripping his shoulder harder.

Octavius looked thoughtful for a second before nodding, "You lost a lot of blood so I'm not surprised you don't remember." He nodded towards Peter's shoulder and the stitches itched at the look.

"You tried to escape and you failed."

Peter's heart froze, his eyes stuck on the doctor's face but the man's expression didn't shift, his body language didn't even change, but his mechanical arms slithered closer to Peter now only a few feet away from him. Peter shuddered.

"In my attempt to stop you I cut your shoulder, leading to your blood loss and most likely your memory issues, and for that I do apologize." 

Peter was startled at that, was Octavius seriously apologizing to him? Before he could think any more on the apology Doc Ock elaborated, "I told you none of us would hurt you and I was unable to keep my word, and for that I take responsibility." He looked sad as he said it.

Peter couldn't even begin to comprehend the apology or what Octavius was thinking but in that moment it didn't matter to him, the only thing that mattered was Ben. He needed to know about Ben.

"M-my uncle..." Peter started but Octavius cut him off, "Yes, you mentioned him that night..."

Peter's breath hitched, waiting for Doc Ock to say more but he didn't, looking at Peter with concern. Peter went to stand, shakily, the tentacles twitching as he did so but made no move to stop him. 

"Where is he? D-did you take him?" Peter asked, feeling dizzy with anguish. He was breathing hard, legs feeling like they would give out, but it wasn't due to exhaustion this time. It was due grief, and he wasn't sure if his body could hold him together if Octavius said something that would shatter Peter's world.

Octavius frowned and his body tensed as he answered carefully, "Peter, your uncle was never there. He died two years ago. I think the blood loss caused you to halluci-"

"Just please tell me if you did something to him," Peter interrupted, tears collecting in his eyes again. "Please, I-I need to know."

Octavius shifted nervously. "I can promise you we did nothing to your uncle, he was not there Peter. It was just you."

"No!" Peter shouted, cheeks now wet as tears fell. "I-I saw him! He was there, I didn't hallucinate!" He sounded desperate, even to himself, but he pushed on, as he held himself, curling inwards. "He was _alive_ , he was so real." Peter sunk back down to the floor, no longer having the strength to stand and Doc Ock's arms helped lower him down slowly. 

He was crying hard again and he hated himself for it, hated himself for being so _weak_ in front of Doctor Octopus but he couldn't control himself. He felt so out of control that it scared him, but he was unable to gather himself. He truly felt broken in that moment, like he would collapse at the smallest breeze.

Doc Ock crouched by him, gripping Peter's face in his hands and lifting him to meet his eyes. Peter stared helplessly at the villain, still shaking. Octavius looked rattled and Peter imaged the doctor had never dealt with something like this before. Never had to console a superhero teenager on the brink of a mental breakdown.

"Am I a liar?"

Peter blinked. "What?"

"Am I a liar, Peter?" Doc Ock asked, his eyes hardening and his voice steady.

Peter didn't even know how to answer, "I... I-"

"Am I a liar?" He asked more harshly, grip on Peter's face tightening ever so slightly.

"No," Peter answered before he could think, the words tumbling out of his mouth.

Doc Ock let the answer hang in the air before continuing, "Then you can believe me when I tell you that if your uncle was there, and is in fact alive, neither I or any of us saw him or did anything to him. We only saw you, and we brought you home."

Peter stared at him, wide eyed as the doctor finished his thought, "I swear to you. I told you I would never lie to you and so I can only tell you the truth...your uncle was not there."

Peter felt cold. His body's convulsions intensified and he could feel his face rattling in the doctors hands. The tears fell even harder and faster as he silently cried. No words or sounds escaped his mouth as his throat felt constricted. He wasn't even sure what he could say in the face of the doctor's truth. He believed him that the Sinister Six hadn't taken Ben, hadn't even seen his uncle in that alleyway. Hadn't seen the moment Peter's world turned upside down and in spite of all the grief a new emotion overtook Peter.

Relief. 

Relief that Ben wasn't in the clutches of villains. Wasn't in the same predicament as him.

He knew the doctor spoke the truth to him but Peter still wasn't convinced it was the _actual_ truth. There still was a thought sitting in the back of his head, holding on desperately, that Ben was alive and had escaped the Sinister Six unlike Peter. That he was out there looking for Peter now, was going to get May, find him, and bring him home. 

He closed his eyes as Octavius pulled him closer to his chest and Peter, selfishly, allowed himself to imagine it was Ben holding him and not his enemy. He could almost smell his uncle's cologne as his forehead rested against Doc Ock's chest and the tears fell to the dusty floor. 

"I'm sorry you had to experience that," Octavius said low as if he might startle Peter out of his grasp. "But it's better for you to know the truth."

Peter said nothing as the tears started to slow and his body relaxed in the doctor's hold, feeling tired and drained. He had nothing left in him but a glimmer of hope. A glimmer that what the doctor said wasn't the universe's truth. It was all he needed to hold onto for now, until he could see the absolute truth for himself. He allowed himself to hope, even if it was dangerous.

"I wanted to clear that up with you before we discussed your punishment."

Peter went rigged and tried to lift his head but the doctor held him in place, the mechanical arms trapping Peter's hands and feet to the floor. He couldn't move. 

"I am a man of my word, Peter." The doctor's voice growled, the low rumbling vibrating against Peter's forehead. His Spidey Sense spiked hot against it.

"You disobeyed... you took advantage of our kindness and there has to be a punishment fitting of the crime."

The air in his lungs felt stolen as he struggled to breathe, to do anything. He tried to push upwards on his arms but the mechanical claws dug down deeper, pushing into the concrete with a crack. 

"I think some time alone will allow you to _reflect_ on your actions, don't you?" The doctor's words sat like venom in his ears, as he rubbed small circles into Peter's back. "Give you some time to process everything."

"Please..." Peter whispered, voice weak. Fear sat on his tongue, tasting bitter, and traveled to his stomach as he swallowed, weighing him down.

"I think you'll find the time alone helpful," Doc Ock continued, nonplussed by Peter's plea.

He let go of Peter's head allowing him to lift it finally and he looked into Octavius' eyes, cold and unwavering. Peter shook.

"Please Doctor Octavius..." He begged, not having time to even think about what that meant. Begging before his enemy. All he could think about was the suffocating darkness, of being alone, and how even the company of his captors was preferable to that. 

"Please what?" He asked, expression unchanging.

Peter swallowed what little pride he had left as he pleaded, "P-please don't leave me alone. Please. I'll l-listen, I swear."

Octavius smiled, wiping a tear away from Peter's cheek. "I know you will... especially after some time alone." He stood, as his arms kept Peter pinned to the ground and walked towards the open door.

"No!" Peter screamed, trying to push against the unbudging arms. "Wait! No, please! Please don't leave me!"

Octavius stood in the doorway, backlit by the fluorescent hallway light as he looked at Peter thrashing in his arms hold.

"Think on what you've done." His arms released Peter and shot back towards their master as Peter lunged at the door. His hands collided with the metal frame with a shout. He pounded on the door screaming, " _Octavius!_ "

He heard the doctors footsteps fade away as he continued to pound, using all of his strength on the door but it stood firm. He continued to cry and scream, bursting into profanities until his voice grew hoarse and gave out all together. 

He sunk to the floor and curled in on himself, crying as the darkness swallowed him whole, knowing there was no escaping it now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts ^^


	12. The Stars that Marked

_"But the stars that marked our starting fall away. We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted that we stay."_ \- Dante Alighieri, Inferno

The darkness was nothing and everything. It stretched endlessly but always lay upon Peter's fingers like the first fallen snow. It was inside his mouth, tinting his tongue black, and was outside settling on his clothes like a fine dust. It whispered to him and all the while said not a word. It was everywhere and Peter couldn't escape it. The only thing the darkness was not was warm. It sat cold on his skin, brushing goosebumps along his arms, and shivers down his neck. He could only escape the cold under the covers of the bed so Peter spent most of his time there.

He wasn't sure how long he spent sleeping in a day, it was impossible to keep track of time, but he knew it to be a lot by the delivery of his food. He would wake to the sound of a slot opening and something hard falling on the floor. He learned the first time that it was food as a tiny sliver of light escaped the slot in the door for the briefest of seconds illuminating the tray before disappearing as the slot closed again. He had tried to pry the slot open, his fingers digging into metal until they bled but the slot didn't move, remaining as closed as the door. He figured after his third attempt that it must only open from the outside. His pants grew sticky from the blood and his hair felt matted to the touch. His fingertips felt like they had a pulse of their own as they throbbed from the raw cuts on his skin.

The small sliver of light from Peter's meal deliveries were the highlights of his days. He tried to stay awake long enough to catch it for real, hoping to take advantage and grab whoever was on the other side of the door, but he found himself growing so incredibly tired that his eyes closed of their own accord, and he only awoke long enough to catch that sliver before it was gone. He had even fallen asleep right next to the door, waiting for the food, and had noticed the air growing hotter right before he fell asleep with his Spidey Sense only buzzing like a gnat at the base of his skull. He had missed the sliver entirely when he woke up, feeling for the tray in the dark and putting his hand right on top of his sandwich. His Spidey Sense continued to buzz before each meal delivery, with Peter falling asleep as if on a timer, right before the slot opened fully. He finally gathered that the Sinister Six were spraying some kind of gas into the room to keep him from doing exactly what he planned, grabbing his captors hand and forcing them to open the door. He fought against the feeling every time, now knowing to expect it. He had even found himself able to stand long enough to see the gnarled fingernails of one of his captors, but the exhaustion carried him away before he could lunge at the hand and he collapsed to the floor in a heap, waking minutes later to no light and his food sitting on a plastic tray.

Knowing some kind of gas was being sprayed in the room, Peter attempted to climb the walls in search of a vent. But just as with the food anytime he made it even slightly up the wall the gas filled the room, growing hot, and Peter passed out on the floor. He had made it to the ceiling one time and had fallen hard, his reflexes able to help him cushion his head as unconsciousness grabbed hold, but pain in his shoulder shot through before he was out. He woke that time in his bed with a bandage wrapped around his shoulder and laid there for a good time, breathing hard, knowing his enemies had come into the room to help Peter and chose to leave him there once again. There was no denying it, they were watching him.

Peter just wasn't sure how.

He was able to keep track of the first few days, well he assumed it had been days just by the meal delivers. Breakfast was always some kind of breakfast burrito, lunch a sandwich, and dinner another sandwich, usually a hot one. During the times he was awake he spent berating his captors, screaming until his lungs felt like they would collapse. He took out every insult in the book, even getting creative at some points. He remembered screaming at Octavius, "I'm going to rip your fucking arms off and donate them to Tony fucking Stark so he can dismantle them piece by fucking piece and hang them in a museum next to your fucking ass mounted on the wall like the fucking animal you are!" 

He learned saying _fuck_ really made him feel better all things considering.

He insulted each and everyone of them, his rage concealing his fear. He used it as a defense, because he was worried what would happen once it gave away. What would lie underneath all of that fury. 

How he would break. 

He didn't want to think on it. 

He directed his rage to breaking the walls too at some point, the door he found was immovable. He wondered if it had been strengthened with vibranium as that was one of the only substances that wouldn't break under Peter's strength. So he had moved on from the door to the wall, because the wall was most definitely just made of concrete and Peter could break that. But every time he wound up his fist, ready to punch, the gas filled the room and Peter was slumped against the wall before he could even throw his fist forward. He spent at least one afternoon, in between lunch and dinner, desperately trying to land at least one hit against the wall. He never succeeded, always waking up to dust in his mouth and grime on his face. 

He didn't receive food the next day and got the hint. Trying to punch through the wall would lead to no food, no schedule. The lack of a schedule and sense of time unraveled Peter further. He didn't try to break through the wall again.

He had figured out he wasn't in the same room he thought originally when he had spoken with Doc Ock. He remembered the crack of light in the ceiling and had laid in his bed, back against the mattress staring up as if he were star gazing. His eyes never found any light and he wondered if they had sealed it up. He crawled around the room, feeling every wall and yelped in surprise when his hands met nothing and fell forward into a new room. Cool tile grazed his palms and Peter crawled feeling around the space. His knuckles knocked against something ceramic and he trailed it up till his hands closed around a faucet. He turned it and jumped at the water splashing over his arms. The water was freezing but Peter dunked his head under it, relishing the feeling of water gliding down his hair and brushing his grimy skin. He stood there for a while until the cold became too much and he turned the water off, now realizing he didn't have a towel. He was shivering, wet hair dripping all over his shirt as his hands searched the wall blindly. He came across a toilet, which he spectacularly tripped over, curses flying from his mouth as he rubbed his sore knee, and eventually his hands wrapped around a fuzzy towel and he quickly rubbed it through his hair and face, body now shivering uncontrollably. But despite how cold he was he continued to search the room, looking for another door, but after a couple trips around the only door he found was the hole in the wall that led back to the bedroom. The wall was broken, with jagged pieces of cement sticking out, causing Peter to hiss as he ran his hands too harshly against the surface, scraping his palms.

He attempted to climb the bathroom walls as well to the same fate. He always woke up on the bathroom floor and was lucky if he was face up. He gave up trying to climb the moment he awoke with a hair in his mouth, a hair he was pretty sure wasn't his, and he scraped his tongue in the sink as he dry-heaved. 

He wasn't eager to have a repeat of that.

The addition of the bathroom sat heavy on Peter. He was looking forward to his trips to the bathroom, to outside of this room, but now that he had all of the accommodations he needed there was no reason for any of the Sinister Six to take him out of this room until they _wanted_ to take him out.

Peter didn't even know if that would ever come.

He kept busy so that his mind didn't wander. Didn't wander to thoughts that would drive him mad.

He exercised, doing push ups and running from wall to wall just to get his limbs moving. He did planks and wall sits to keep his core strong and he even went to lift his bed but the gas started and Peter pieced together lifting the bed was a no no. He pushed the limits of what he was allowed to do within this small space without triggering the gas, but exercising only kept him interested for so long, especially since he couldn't see.

He thought with the loss of his eyesight that his other senses would get better, but that didn't seem to be the case. The sounds he made sounded like they always did, food tasted and smelled no better or worse, and his touch didn't grow sensitive. It was annoying all things considering, he felt like he was owed at least some extra stimulation from his other senses since he couldn't see.

He wondered how Daredevil would've felt if he didn't gain other enhanced senses when he lost his eyesight.

Peter knew Daredevil wasn't completely blind, the man had explained to him the way he could _see_ before, like a radar of sorts. and Peter had said, "So you're like Toph from Avatar."

Daredevil didn't get the reference but Peter still stood by it. Although it didn't seem to be quite the same thing, it was the only way Peter could wrap his head around the explanation of Daredevil's abilities.

But thinking of Daredevil hurt. It hurt him to think about how he missed their training session, that even if he hadn't been kidnapped by the Sinister Six he still would've missed it because of the fight. Tony had told him the Sinister Six was attacking a construction site and Peter hadn't even given a thought to his training with Daredevil, hadn't even considered calling the man to let him know of the situation. He had taken off from his school and headed directly to the construction site, the devil of Hell's Kitchen not even a passing thought as he swung through Manhattan.

He could blame it on the Sinister Six and Tony's call, really he could've easily, but truthfully he knew that he had been pulling away from the man and leaning more on the Avengers before that day. That Daredevil's attitude towards his family had driven a wedge between them and Peter didn't want to feel like the kid stuck between divorcing parents. And as much as Peter admired the man, and was grateful for everything Daredevil had done for him, it wasn't even a competition in his eyes.

The Avengers won every time... Tony won every time.

If Daredevil would force him to choose then Peter chose them. 

But now that Peter had time to think and stew, he realized how childish his actions had been. How he hadn't even fought for the relationship he spent the past year building with Daredevil. Hadn't even talked to the man. He had let his own self-doubt and fear stop him from approaching the topic and instead let the divide between them grow. He could've easily bridged the gap with a simple conversation but he elected not to cause he was worried.

Worried that Daredevil would desert him for good if he brought it up. Would turn his back on Peter and become just a distant figure in Peter's memory, and in an ironic twist of fate that's what their relationship was leading to the longer both men ignored the issue at hand. And now as he laid in his bed, curled around the darkness, the ache in his chest expanded.

When he got out of here he would talk with Daredevil, would lay everything out for him. Would tell the man exactly how he felt and would deal with whatever outcome may occur. Being trapped in this room did give him time to reflect, like Doc Ock wanted, Peter thought bitterly. It did give him perspective on some things, whether he wanted to confront it or not.

But as much as he tried to keep busy and in motion, sleep became his new normal.

Sleep was the only place that he could see light again.

He dreamt of clear skies and grassy fields. He dreamt of humid air and sweat sticking to his face under his mask. He dreamt of wind and the feeling of falling. He dreamt of loved ones, their faces remaining imprints on the backs of his eyelids when he awoke.

He also dreamt of enemies and found that he was beginning to confuse the two when he was pulled back into the darkness. The faces swam around his vision and the feelings each one evoked from him were becoming muddled, as if left in the washer for too long. Constantly turning and circulating his thoughts and confusion was taking hold.

He had started a chant in his head that he found himself saying aloud on more than one occasion to keep his thoughts straight.

"May, Tony, Ned, MJ, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Daredevil, Ben."

He said it like a mantra, or a prayer of sorts, to keep him grounded in reality as he felt himself slipping further and further the longer he stayed in this room.

He figured he should be used to the darkness by now but it never ceased its attack on his senses and sensibility. It grew more deafening, more suffocating, and more threatening as time went by. Peter soon found he was losing track of time as he tried to remember how many meals had been delivered and there came a day where the number escaped him. His shouts to his captors lessened and turned into mumblings as he talked to himself, just to fill the room with some kind of noise. He couldn't even discern what he was talking about most of the time, but the sound of his own voice made the air feel less heavy somehow.

He spent most of his days curled up in bed and realized with a hint of worry that he had stopped looking forward to the light that came from his food deliveries. He even noted absently that the gas had stopped too as he remained in bed, on his side staring into the abyss. He didn't even flinch at the sound of the slot opening and his food being dropped to the ground. It all started to blend together and there wasn't much distinction in Peter's mind. He realized sometimes when his stomach growled that he had missed meals, lost in his own thoughts and emotions as he laid in the darkness.

Sometimes he didn't have the energy to eat.

The worst of it was the lack of contact. The lack of another voice besides his own. The lack of touch, hell he would even love to feel someone else's breath against his face to just know there was _someone_ else there with him. He found himself touching his face, his hair, his arms, his legs, his entire body to remind himself he was real and present, and guiltily he sometimes imaged his hands to be someone else's.

He first imagined May, whose hands were rough and calloused from years of working as a nurse, but were always so gentle as they rubbed his back. Always slow and steady with her movements, always knowing how best to console Peter. He cried when he thought of her as he rubbed his own back, the fantasy not able to substitute for the real thing.

He imaged Tony ruffling his hair and giving him a pat on the shoulder at a job well done. The man had never been overly affectionate with Peter, at least not in a physical way, and Peter could only remember one time Tony had hugged him, but when he thought hard on it the memory drifted away, leaving Peter feeling devastated at its loss.

The more time he spent in the darkness the more his long term memories started to fade, and only the short term ones stayed.

He remembered the way Doc Ock brushed his hand through his hair, the way Rhino held him close to his chest, the way Electro fussed over his injuries. He remembered the men looking concerned for him and their touches gentle as they helped with his injuries. He caught himself running his own hand through his hair imaging it to be Octavius' and the action startled him from his daze as he repeated his mantra aloud, shaking.

"May, Tony, Ned, MJ, Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Sam, Steve, Bucky, Daredevil... Ben."

He couldn't forget who put him in here, who was inadvertently stealing his memories as he rotted away in blackness. He couldn't forget who his enemies were.

And he did remember but at some point it stopped mattering. He didn't care who put him in this hole or why he was here. He just wanted out and any face, even the face of the man that stole his life would be a welcome sight.

Peter dreamt of his release, dreamt of the doors opening and bathing him in a white light, looking like the gates to heaven. He dreamt of each member of the Sinister Six standing there, leading him outside once again. leading him back to the light. Back home.

Only when he thought of home he couldn't picture it. He couldn't remember what Avengers Tower looked like, couldn't remember his bedroom at his and May's apartment, couldn't remember MJ and Ned's homes, couldn't remember his training spot with Daredevil.

He could only remember the warehouse and the garden. The way the light filtered through the cloudy skylight and sat so lovingly on Peter's face. The way the grass felt on the soles of his feet, the way the wind caressed his face. 

He didn't know when but the image of the garden came to him when home popped into his mind and he latched onto it. Latched onto it for the sake of _familiarity_ and his sanity. In his heart he knew it wasn't his real home, but his mind was starting to deceive him and his heart was weak with grief. Weak with ache.

Weak with longing.

He still dreamt of Ben and could swear he saw his eyes peering from the darkness on more than one occasion but as his grip on reality was faltering so too were the thoughts of Ben. Doc Ock's words sat with him like a fever, sticking hot and clammy to his skin, hissing in his ears.

Ben wasn't there.

And the longer the words surrounded him the more truth they started to ring. The more absolute they became.

Ben wasn't there. Ben was dead.

And the truth broke him.

He had no more tears to cry, no more words to say. Peter laid in his bed and the only thing left for him to do was sleep, thoughtlessly in his dreams, that had turned as dark as the room he was in.

No more light came to his dreams, no more escape. There was no wind, no sky, no faces. It was just Peter and the endlessness of _nothing_.

And soon he felt himself start to become the same.

Food and water sat untouched on his floor as Peter spent what seemed like days not getting out of bed. He laid there in silence, not even having the energy to talk to himself, as he drifted in and out of consciousness, not even quite sure if he was alive anymore.

Maybe death had grabbed him without him even knowing. Maybe this is what death was, just endless darkness and an absolute nothing. The thought felt as cold and empty as Death's grip on his shoulder. It should've scared him but Peter had no more room in his heart for new fears. He only had room enough for the old.

And the glimmer of hope that was fading ever so slightly as each day passed, its light growing weaker and weaker as Peter faded into darkness. 

Peter laid there asleep for an indefinite amount of time until a feeling roused him from slumber.

He opened his eyes and light was before him, the door to his room ajar and the face of Doc Ock filled his vision.

Doc Ock's hand was on Peter's forehead, brushing his long strands aside and Peter whimpered at the sensation. An unexplainable feeling washing over him, filling him entirely.

Octavius continued his ministrations as Peter remained still but finally spoke and his voice sounded like an angel to Peter's ears, "You haven't been eating."

Peter said nothing, not sure his throat worked anymore and just continued to whimper, tears falling silently from his eyes and trailing down his face. The feeling of Doc Ock's hand on his head was everything to Peter in that moment and he felt like he would crumble away without it.

Octavius spoke low and concerned, "I'm worried you've been in here too long, I should've come sooner for you."

Peter was still as he worried Doctor Octopus would leave him if he moved towards the man, would walk out of the door trapping Peter in the darkness once again. Peter was sure if he did that that he would die, there would be nothing left to salvage of himself.

He would truly become nothing.

Doc Ock's hands now cupped Peter's face and he let a cry out, tears falling freely now, as the warmth on his face overtook his thoughts and senses.

Octavius frowned at the reaction, but not seemingly upset with Peter. "Yes, I think your punishment is over now. You seem to have learned your lesson."

Peter sobbed and the feeling came back with a force as he placed a name to it.

Gratitude.

Octavius was rescuing him from the darkness, from the emptiness, from death. He was an angel, blessed by brilliant light.

He was Peter's savior and he had never felt more grateful towards someone before.

He helped Peter into a sitting position, his arms circling his back and Peter sobbed further at the physical touch, knowing how starved he had been to feel anyone's hands besides his own. How starved he had been to see another's face that weren't visions in the dark. To hear a voice that sounded like the sweetest melody being played.

He was so broken and he didn't even care in that moment. All he cared about was everything he had been missing that was now right before him. It could've been anyone and it wouldn't have mattered. All that mattered was that Octavius was _real_ and not the darkness toying with him.

"Have you learned your lesson?" Octavius asked, moving his hands once again to cup Peter's face as the boy shook hysterically.

Peter couldn't talk but he nodded, quick and definitive. He would do whatever Octavius said if it meant never returning to that room. Never being surrounded by darkness again. He would do anything the man asked and that was the absolute truth for Peter.

Octavius smiled, brushing away Peter's tears and Peter lost it further at the sight. "Good, let's go home."

Peter threw his arms around Octavius' neck, weeping into his collarbone and held on for dear life, as if the man would turn to dust if Peter didn't check if he was real. If Peter couldn't feel Octavius's clothing and the strong muscles underneath then the man would vanish.

He held him tight as Octavius lifted Peter up, carrying him out of the room and into the light.

Peter had to shy away from it as it blinded him, and buried his head further into the crook of Doc Ock's neck.

And then he said his mantra, but not the one he had made to keep him sane. He said a new one that resonated even more true than the last.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, ..."

Octavius cupped the back of Peter's head as the boy let out a string of hysterics, shaking so hard the doctor had to tighten his grip on him to keep him steady.

"It's okay, you'll be safe. I promise."

And Peter believed him whole-heartedly, knowing he was finally and truly saved from his nightmare. 

\-------------------------

Octavius watched from the window as Peter slept soundly on the couch in his office. A quilted blanket had been thrown over him that Peter was nestled into, face slack and relaxed, a stark contrast to just a few minutes ago.

Doc Ock had carried Peter back to the main area of the warehouse as the boy continued to sob and shake helplessly in his arms, still thanking the man profusely. The rest of the Sinister Six stood around, concern shining in their eyes at the fragile mental state of Spiderman. 

Octavius had taken him into the office, setting the boy down on the couch, going to look for his new concoction. A kind of sedative that would not put the teenager to sleep but help him relax, but the moment he moved his hands away from the boy Peter sobbed even further. Hands reaching for his wrists and his mantra of thanks shifting into pleas.

Peter's eyes were wide and scared as he looked desperately to Octavius. Spiderman's grip was strong enough to cause pain and Doc Ock's arms twitched threateningly. He calmed his nerves knowing the boy wasn't trying to hurt him and his arms relaxed.

He bent down and brought his hands to Peter's face, the boy giving off a relieved sob, still shaking. His hands still clinging to Octavius' wrists but no longer as tight.

Vulture entered the room, looking worried, but Octavius told him, "Grab the sedative, the actual one." 

Vulture nodded as Doc Ock soothed the boy speaking to him low, and running hands through his hair, knowing how much Peter liked that. "I'm not going anywhere, don't worry." Peter lowered his head into Octavius' chest, body still convulsing but it seemed to lessen at the touch. 

Vulture appeared by his side and handed the syringe to the doctor. Peter whimpered at the removal but Vulture's hand soon came in to replace Octavius' and the whimpering ceased.

"I promise we'll be right here when you wake up, okay." Octavius smiled, showing Peter the syringe, not wanting to further scare the boy. But Peter's eyes didn't even look to the syringe as they stayed firmly on Octavius' face. His eyes were rimmed red and the tears seemed never ending as he continued to sob. Octavius grabbed Peter's arm, inserting the needle into the crook of his arm and pushed the sedative in.

Peter's eyes stayed open for only a few seconds before they closed and he went limp in both men's arms. Vulture helped position the boy on the couch and placed the blanket on top of him. The tears finally stopped as Spiderman slipped further into unconsciousness.

Doc Ock didn't want to use an actual sedative on the boy but seeing his mental state he was unsure if his own drug could actually relax him. Spiderman had been pushed too far mentally and Vulture voiced his own thoughts on the matter, "This is fucked Otto."

Octavius didn't disagree but wouldn't say it aloud, "We had to be sure he was ready to come out. I didn't think he was pushed this far."

"He stopped eating for fucks sake, he didn't move from that goddamn bed for a whole day." Vulture snarled, rounding on the doctor now. "He wasn't stable when we put him in, it's absolutely fucking _incredible_ he's not worse somehow. We'll be lucky if he'll even be able to talk to us coherently when he wakes up."

Octavius narrowed his eyes, "I understand that he was pushed too far, but he needed to be broken Adrian, we can both agree to that."

Vulture sucked his teeth, "This is not how it should've been done though!"

This wasn't the first time both men had argued about leaving Peter in the room. Vulture didn't agree with the method and was the one constantly surveying the boy from the drone left in the corner of the room. As each day passed he would confront Otto about needing to let Peter out but Octavius knew if they let him out too early another escape attempt was imminent. They needed Peter in a fragile mental state if they hoped to keep him. It wasn't something Octavius wanted to do, or enjoyed doing, but it was the only solution he had to their predicament. 

Peter had proven to be too much a wild card if left unchecked. He had almost escaped and he would've made it if the blood loss hadn't caused him to hallucinate... to see his dead uncle. Octavius cutting his shoulder in the heat of the battle had kept the boy in their care, and he wasn't beyond the thought that it was only _luck_ that had Spiderman asleep on their couch this very second.

And luck wouldn't keep Peter in their care the second time around. If he tried to escape again there was a very good chance he would succeed. And Octavius couldn't allow that to happen, none of them could.

So he did something that made his skin crawl and his blood run cold.

He broke the boy's will to leave. He made him reliant on them.

He just hoped he didn't break Peter completely.

Seeing his eyes, wild and almost unseeing of anything but Octavius scared the man. He hoped after the trauma they put him through that the original Spiderman was still there underneath, the same loud mouthed, quippy brat that he had grown so fond of in the past weeks. He wanted to see Peter smile, true and genuine, but he didn't know if that was still in the boy. Not right now anyways.

He had used Peter's need for touch against him, shut him in a room devoid of any human contact. No ability to see anything, knowing it would get to him quick. Break him down faster than anything else could.

And as sick as it was, he was right. It had only taken a week for Peter to be completely broken.

When he walked into the room, touched the boy's head and saw his eyes, Octavius knew he won. Peter looked at him like he was the only thing in the world, looked at him like he was his savior.

Octavius had gotten what he wanted, but it didn't feel like a victory. It felt like a defeat.

But to say that aloud to his team, who all looked to him for answers, would be an even bigger defeat and one Octavius couldn't afford, so he squared his shoulders, and faced the wrath of his right hand face on.

He turned back towards him, to continue the conversation but froze at the new voice in the room.

"Aww he's a lil cutie when he's not having a complete mental breakdown."

Doc Ock's arm lunged faster than his mind could process, but his arms tore through air as the man that stood over Peter a second ago vanished in a cloud of smoke. Vulture whipped around, anger forgotten as he looked for the owner of the new voice and recognition dawned on him.

"Mysterio?" 

"Yep, it's me!" Mysterio blinked back into existence through another cloud of smoke, now sitting on Octavius' desk with his legs crossed and a rose in his hand. He twirled it between his fingers and said, "Ya know I was gonna give this to you Doc for such a great performance but you do not know how to greet a guest!" 

"How did you get in here?" Vulture snarled, moving instinctually between Mysterio and Peter, blocking the unconscious hero from Mysterio's line of vision.

Even though Octavius couldn't see through Mysterio's helmet he couldn't help but know there was a shit-eating grin on the man's face.

"Ya know people _always_ ask me that and it just hurts my feelings! It sucks never being invited to the party ya know!" He pouted, tucking the rose somewhere under his cape.

Mysterio's entrance drew the attention of the rest of the Sinister Six as they entered the already too small office, looking at the man with a mixture of emotions. 

Mysterio smacked his hands together in a sweeping motion, creating a cloud of dust from his palms. "Man it's cramped in here! Let's take this outside, shall we? Let the kid get some shut eye." He gave a one-fingered salute before disappearing again, the smoke and dust causing Adrian to cough.

The Sinister Six ran out of the office to Mysterio standing in the middle of the warehouse, balancing a bowling pin on his fingertip and standing on one foot.

"You guys sure know how to throw an early release from confinement party, huh? The kid looked ready to rage all nig-"

He was cut off as Octavius arms lunged at him once again, forcing Mysterio to hop backwards and chuck the bowling pin at the doctor. One of his arms smacked it away with ease as he charged forward, no hesitation in his movements. 

The doctor was about to reach him, arms aiming for Mysterio's helmet, ready to pierce through the glass, when the man disappeared again with a bow, popping up back near the rest of the Sinister Six.

"Alright got it, you're a bit testy," Mysterio hummed. "Jokes don't flatter everyone, huh?"

Octavius turned to resume his attack but Adrian placed himself in the middle, holding up a hand to placate the man.

"Mysterio speak quick on why you're here or consider my favor to you not ripping your fucking throat out." Adrian said, eyes alight in their own fury again, his wings unfurling as a warning to the man. The rest of the Sinister Six circled Mysterio, leaving no room for escape through them.

The hypnotist whistled in appreciation, "You guys aren't feeling my comedy today, are ya?"

None of them said anything but Electro released an electric discharge that shot right at Mysterio's feet, making the man jump with a squeal.

"Alright, alright! Got it, not in the mood today..." He grumbled. "I didn't come to pick a fight, honest." He held his hands up, as some doves flew out from his sleeves. "Oh shit! No! Bella and Jacob come back!" He sunk to his knees, hands grasping his dome in disbelief. "And I shipped those two so hard."

"Spit out why you're here!" Scorpion snapped, tail snapping to the front of Mysterio's dome, dangerously close to the man's jugular.

"Easy tiger... or scorpion, whatever you're supposed to be." Mysterio stood again, brushing the dirt from his pants. "I'm coming to you with a warning is all, doing some of my civic duty that my mom used to always nag me about."

"What warning?" Mr. Negative asked.

"The Avengers are on to you lot and they're on their way to rescue their sweet little innocent _Spiderman_."

The Sinister Six froze, processing Mysterio's warning. Vulture spoke first, "How do you know this?"

"Those little drones I gave you aren't my only ones, my friend. I got my little spies everywhere and one of them I left in Avengers Tower just cause I had a feeling they were keeping quiet for a reason." Mysterio tapped his dome, clinking against the glass.

"How do they know we're here?" Octavius snapped, ready to dispose of Mysterio the moment he stopped talking, the drones be damned.

"A little devil on Tony Stark's shoulder told them," He laughed, making horns with his fingers over his head.

"Devil?" Electro asked, confused. "Do you mean Daredevil? Why would that guy know we're here?"

"Seems like you and the Avengers ain't the only ones with a soft spot for the kid... and I do see _why_." Mysterio said darkly, a hint of something in his voice that Octavius couldn't place but he didn't like it. Mysterio knew too much, he couldn't be allowed to walk out of here. "The devil of Hell's Kitchen is friends with Spiderman, so he's been searching for him too and you lot didn't do a good job cleaning up your mess. Left behind a nice red trail for them to follow... like Hansel and Gretel."

The Sinister Six blanched, realizing their mistake. 

Peter's blood. 

They didn't bother to clean it up, assuming it would wash away from the rain the next day. They had been so preoccupied with Peter that they didn't think to hide the breadcrumbs. 

And now it was too late to do so. They had failed to cover their tracks.

"How long till they get here?" Vulture asked.

"An hour," Mysterio laughed, "And they're bringing the devil with them."

"Fuck," Scorpion said, fear flashing across his face. The rest of the team felt the same but Octavius didn't have time to waste. "We need to leave, gather the trucks."

The team made to move but Mysterio ran in front of them, hands raised. "Woah woah! You don't need to leave."

"Yeah we do you fucking lunatic!" Electro screamed, "If they know we're here then we're fucked. They'll take Spiderman and throw the rest of us in the raft if we're lucky! They'll probably kill us first."

"Not if they can't find you-" Mysterio started only to be cut off by Rhino, "But they already did."

"Wow you guys are really bad listeners." Mysterio shook his head, glitter falling to the floor. "I give you my drones and you don't even use them properly. I hand you your freedom on a silver platter and you're too stupid to realize."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Scorpion growled, rounding on the man once again, his angry crackling the air like Electro's electricity.

"You lot can hide in plain sight, the Avengers could walk right in front of you and not even know you're there."

The Sinister Six stopped moving to consider the option as Mysterio sealed the deal with his next sentence, "The best illusions are the ones right before your eyes."

"And I'm gonna help you!" Mysterio gave a peace sign and disappeared again. He reappeared in the office leaning over a sleeping Peter.

The Sinister Six practically flew into the room but Mysterio didn't make a move to touch the teenager as he just looked at him. "Ya know I always thought Spiderman might be a kid, but I didn't really _know_ ya know? Definitely a twist I wasn't expecting!"

"Why do you wanna help us... help him?" Vulture asked, tensing for the answer. All of them ready to pounce on Mysterio if he made the wrong move.

"I don't, actually!" Mysterio said cheerfully. "But watching you lot with him is too much fun, it's better than anything on cable right now. And since you guys took Spiderman in I've been able to really enjoy my hobbies, really get back into them ya know? So it's in my best interest to help for now, so that's what I'm gonna do!"

He gave the group a thumbs up and Octavius felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The man was too unpredictable and there was nothing to say he wouldn't change his mind and kill Peter. There was no way Doc Ock could trust him.

"No," He said, standing up straighter, gaze unwavering.

"No?" Mysterio asked, thumb deflating and he put his hands on his hips. "You're turning down my help?"

"That's right," Octavius said, his voice steady and polite. "We appreciate you warning us but we don't require your assistance. We can take it from here."

"Hmmm," Mysterio mused, going back over to sit on the desk. "Well you certainly needed my help when this _one_ ," he nodded his head in Peter's direction, "nearly got away from you. Hell he did get away!" Mysterio laughed, low and haughty.

"What do you mean?" Adrian asked.

"Dead uncle ring a bell?" Mysterio fell to his knees before Peter, hands clasped dramatically together. " _Peter please believe me, I've been secretly alive for over 2 years and never told you because of our unjust justice system and I'm only now coming to you at the most inopportune time._ "

He stood up, brushing his pants once again. "I will say I thought the performance would be more fun, but it ended up more depressing in reality. The kid's got a lot of issues ya know?"

"That was you?" Mr. Negative asked, somehow looking even whiter than before, paling at the realization.

"Yep! And if I hadn't done it your boy would be drinking hot coco on Tony Stark's couch cuddled up with your least favorite person _doctor_." He guffawed before growing serious. "So whether or not you want it you've already used my help and the favors are racking up, just the way I like it. You would've already lost over a week ago if I had let you, and your crusade of _protecting Spiderman_ would be over."

Silence sat heavy in the room except for the slow breathing of Spiderman who slept on unaware of the situation before him.

"Now gentlemen, are we ready to get to work?" Mysterio asked, and Octavius got the same feeling the man had never stopped smiling during the entire encounter. The whole situation didn't sit well with him, and he had questions for Mysterio about the appearance of Peter's uncle and how he knew about the man to begin with, but now wasn't the time.

The clock was ticking away and a decision needed to be made. He looked to his team who all seemed to be in agreeance for once. 

He turned back to Mysterio and said, "Alright, what did you have in mind?"

Mysterio's smile widened even further under his helmet as he said, "Let's throw them a welcome party."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! Hope you enjoyed the chapter, things are starting to heat up and I'm excited to start getting into it ^^


	13. The Envious Moon

_"Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she. . . ."_ \- Shakespeare, Romeo & Julet

Tony sat in his workshop fiddling with the scanner in his Ironman mask, trying to upgrade it. He didn't need to be working on the mask, it wasn't important for the day ahead, but keeping his hands busy kept his mind still, and he desperately needed that at the moment.

It had been a little over a week since Daredevil had visited the tower. A little over a week since Natasha had went to the fishing harbor in the dead of night, under the cover of darkness, to retrieve the blood sample. A week since Bruce had analyzed the blood and confirmed it was in fact Spiderman's. Six days since the team had decided on a course of action to not rush in blind. Four days since Natasha and Clint canvased the area day and night, watching who came and went. Two days since both spies reported no suspicious activity, but that in itself was suspicious. One day since Steve had said something was off and Tony had agreed with him.

But it was today when Tony decided they couldn't afford to wait for a sighting of the Sinister Six and they needed to go in, whether or not it felt right. It was the one time Daredevil had ever been in agreeance with the man.

So the team came to an understanding, they would head to the fishing harbor and go through each warehouse, one by one, until they found something leading them to Peter. Only they wouldn't go in guns blazing. The crumbling pavement coated in Peter's blood that resided in Bruce's lab sat heavy on their minds. Doctor Octopus had said they wouldn't harm Peter, would take care of the boy since he deemed the Avengers incapable of doing so, had said they would protect him.

And the blood trail Daredevil followed that night said everything they already knew. Everything Octavius said was a lie, the evidence painting a crystal clear picture for the Avengers. A picture that brought no relief, no joy, only sheer terror at what it meant.

Peter was not safe with the Sinister Six. He wouldn't be safe till he was home with them.

While the picture struck fear into Tony's very soul, it also lit a fire in his belly, that grew with every passing day. 

There wasn't a force in this world that could stop him from finding Peter.

From bringing him home.

And if the Sinister Six tried to stop him Tony wasn't sure how he would react.

He dreamt of finding Peter, chained and beaten. A shadow of his former self, his eyes begging for Tony to save him, to help him. As Tony would approach, ready to tear the chains off and take his kid back the Sinister Six would leap from the shadows, fangs exposed and claws drawn. They wouldn't hesitate to attack, striking Ironman every which way.

And Tony himself wouldn't hesitate, he fought back but not in his usual way. His blasters shot through chests and heads, killing the men right where they stood. He turned up the power of his proton blasters and disintegrated Electro, Mr. Negative, Scorpion, Rhino, and Vulture.

Doctor Octopus he took his time with, blasting pieces of him away until he was no more than dust and blood as the man howled at Tony, begging him to stop, to take Peter home and leave him be.

Tony never relented.

He killed each member every night he dreamt and he remembered how scared Peter had looked when he finished, how scared of Tony he looked and the look would shake him awake, abruptly.

He would sit up in his bed, his lab chair, the couch, wherever he had fallen asleep that night, cold and clammy, but with the fire burning brighter each time.

Tony knew Peter would never look at him the same if he killed the Sinister Six, would never look at him with bright, wide eyes. Would never look at him in amazement again. He didn't want to lose that, to lose the kid's admiration but something primal in Tony was taking shape, shifting under his skin, clawing its way through. The feeling should've frightened him but it only added fuel to the fire.

Tony wasn't a killer, but he wasn't sure how long that would last when he laid eyes on the Sinister Six. When he saw his kid again. The darkness he had fought so long and hard against was spreading slowly, tainting him, turning his blood black and his skin sallow, but Tony couldn't find it in him to fight back. 

He wasn't sure he wanted to.

He never relayed these feelings to the team. He didn't want to worry them, didn't want them to think him a risk to the operation. He couldn't afford them telling him he couldn't come. There was no force in the universe that could stop him from finding Peter, not even the Avengers.

But if they noticed something wrong with Tony none of them said. They all had their own thoughts running through their heads, their own instincts to fight against. The Avengers that were normally so in tune with one another were falling out of sync.

It was something to be alarmed by and in better times they would have realized and fixed it. Would have talked with one another. But there was no time now, no time to sit down and talk. Peter's life was on the line and they couldn't afford another minute of leaving him with his captors. Couldn't afford to leave him in the dark.

Tony would steep himself in darkness and hate if it meant bringing Peter back into the light. He would travel through the depths of hell to bring Peter home, and he was willing to sacrifice himself in the process. Tony had always been a martyr of sorts after all, what was one more time when it was arguably the most important time to be one.

None of his team said anything, but a man that didn't know Tony that well was the one to notice the shift.

Daredevil had joined their ranks, temporarily at least, in their search for Spiderman. He would stay with them as they planned their moves, talked strategies around Natasha and Clint's reports, and would silently observe the Avengers. Something Sam had said was, _"fucking creepy"_ on more than one occasion. 

Tony didn't say anything to the devil, mostly cause he didn't want to stir the pot. He wasn't an idiot when it came to Daredevil's feelings towards them, especially him. He knew the man had cooperated with them in the past purely out of some kind of basic respect, or fear of what the Avengers would do if he didn't. Tony could see how smart and strong Daredevil was, and had always been genuine in his invitations for him to join the Avengers, but started to piece together Daredevil's feelings after the second time he rejected Tony. Still Tony wasn't a man to back down and had asked him several more times after that, but he always knew the answer before he even asked the question.

Daredevil didn't trust them and he never would.

Tony was fine with that. Daredevil wasn't needed on the team, and the invitation had been mainly a courtesy thing. Tony liked to keep tabs on all of the heroes and vigilantes he could, so it was more out of self-interest for him anyways. The devil of Hell's Kitchen never made too big of a splash so Tony allowed him to remain out of sights. Allowed the man to work in the shadows, as long as he didn't overstep his bounds Tony was fine with their slightly tumultuous relationship that was communicated through exasperation and passive aggressiveness.

It was honestly an improvement in Tony's behavior as the past him would've bluntly asked Daredevil what his issue was and drove the man to actually _hate_ Tony, as no doubt the conversation would devolve into insults and quick anger.

So passive aggressiveness was a step up in Tony's eyes. 

But Tony stopped being fine with it once Peter started hanging out with Daredevil. 

On Tuesday afternoons right after school Peter was always busy. Tony started to notice the pattern after Peter turned down a few requests to come to the tower on those days. He had every excuse lined up perfectly.

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I can't! I have decathlon practice after school today."

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I can't! I have to go grocery shopping for May."

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I can't! I'm hanging with Ned today."

"I'm sorry Mr. Stark, I can't! I'm meeting up with a friend."

The last excuse caught Tony's attention. Peter only had two friends, the nerdy one and the bookish one. Tony always forgot their names to Peter's annoyance, but Peter always said their names if he was spending time with them. He never called them _"a friend"_.

Tony knew he shouldn't spy on the kid, he did keep the tracker in the suit, but he let Peter decide when he turned it on and Tony didn't interfere with it. Even though most of the time he really wanted to. He knew his constant snooping on Peter was a sore spot for the kid, something he did get angry with Tony about. It was one of the few things Tony did that actually upset Peter, so he stopped. He knew it was important Peter had boundaries, something Tony's own father never allowed him to have, and he very much did not want to be like his father. So he let Peter set them and he respected it.

Well... mostly.

Peter could turn the tracker on and off but Tony still had direct access to it and could turn it on anytime he wanted. The next Tuesday he did just that and the little red dot on his screen followed Spiderman swinging from Queens to Hell's Kitchen, and Tony knew without even seeing for himself that Peter was spending time with Daredevil.

The realization sat bitter on his tongue, jealousy spiking through him for the briefest of seconds before settling into guilt. For whatever reason, Peter felt like he couldn't tell Tony that he was spending time with Daredevil. He was sure it was due to the devil not being fond of Tony more so than Peter trying to purposefully hide something from him, but his insecurities reared its ugly head and spoke to him in a whisper.

_"What if he doesn't need you anymore?"_

He brushed it aside, knowing it wasn't true. Knowing that Peter also looked up to Daredevil and was sure the man was taking Peter under his wing. Knew that it was probably good for Peter to train with someone who had a similar fighting style to him. Knew it was safer for Peter to patrol with Daredevil by his side, than by himself. Knew it was good for Peter to interact with men that were better than Tony, morally superior in every way. Knew it in his head to be a good thing.

But his heart didn't always listen to his head, and it weighed him down with jealousy and insecurity.

There were times the voice was more persistent than before and Tony would catch himself finding any reason to drag Peter away from his time with Daredevil. He would call Peter if a small incident occurred, even though he could've easily answered it on his own. He would call Peter to come to Avengers Tower after his time with the devil to help him in the lab, something he knew Peter loved to do. He would keep him late until Peter had no choice but to spend the night, calling his aunt to let her know where he was staying. He had started to stay the night so often that Tony had one of the guest rooms turned officially into Peter's room, and the joy on his face when Tony told him had sated the jealousy and insecurities. He knew then and there that he was being ridiculous but he found himself unable to back off.

Each time he ran into Daredevil the man never mentioned what Tony was doing, he wasn't even sure if the man was aware of Tony distracting Peter from him. But something about the way the devil of Hell's Kitchen looked at him told him that he knew somehow. That he knew that Tony _knew_.

And the knowledge further separated the two.

He stopped asking Daredevil to join the Avengers.

Daredevil stopped showing up to crime scenes when the Avengers were involved.

Both men preferred it that way, and it had stayed that way until Daredevil showed up outside the tower at three in the morning, looking nothing like he knew the hero to be. He looked frantic and he looked frightened.

And Daredevil never looked that way.

Daredevil showing up with news about Spiderman had forced a truce between them, a genuine one. Their petty squabble over Peter's attention could be put on the back burner, or incinerated altogether, if it meant bringing Peter home.

If it meant bringing Spiderman back to the streets of New York again.

Despite the truce Daredevil and Tony only spoke to one another when they were talking strategies. 

And Daredevil never spent the night in the Tower, he always left, heading presumably back to Hell's Kitchen and Tony never tried to convince him to stay. 

The man kept to himself, and Tony did the same during that week. He huddled in his lab, tinkering with his suit, trying to keep busy as his dreams started to feel more and more real each time he awoke.

He had just awoken from another dream and was wiping the sweat from his brow when a knock sounded at his door. "Come in," He said, not bothering to see who it was. It was most likely Steve coming to check on him, but the voice of the one entering definitely didn't belong to Steve.

"What are you working on?"

Tony whipped around in his chair, startled at Daredevil standing in the doorway, fully clad in his red suit and mask. Daredevil had never come down to his lab before, he didn't even know how the man knew where it was.

"Just some updates to my scanner," Tony said, turning back to his mask, hoping his eyes didn't look too bloodshot from just waking up. "Nothing major, just figured it might help our search tonight."

Daredevil said nothing and didn't move further into the room. He continued to stand in the doorway, looking at Tony's back. Tony shivered slightly and had to agree with Sam's assessment earlier about Daredevil's staring. It was fucking _creepy_.

"Did you need something from me?" Tony asked, as he brought up a holographic diagnostic of his Ironman helmet, trying to make it seem like Daredevil's presence wasn't putting him on edge.

"I wanted to see where your head is at going into tonight," Daredevil said, deadpanned, still standing in the same spot.

Tony paused, swiveling in his chair to look at the man. "My head? What do you mean?" He asked, dumbfounded at Daredevil's statement.

"I want to know how you're feeling," Daredevil answered, no hint of emotion in his voice.

Tony couldn't help the scoff that escaped his lips. "How I'm feeling? What kind of fucking question is that?"

Daredevil's tone didn't change but his eyes narrowed slightly at Tony's response. "I've noticed a change in your... temperament this past week. I'm checking to see if you've prepared yourself for what's to come."

Tony's own eyes narrowed to slits as the fire burned fierce behind his eyes. He didn't know why Daredevil was approaching him with this, and because he never bothered to try and understand the man the line of questioning came off as condescending rather than concerned.

"My temperament? What do you know about my temperament?" Tony seethed, standing from his chair, and squaring up to the devil. He knew without the Ironman suit he was just a man, but he also knew how intimidating he could be without it. How his sheer presence could be a threat if he wanted it to be.

He didn't run a weapons manufacturing company for years without picking up some tactics. He didn't need to be Ironman to make an impression.

Daredevil didn't back down and didn't move from his spot at Tony's movement. He seemed as relaxed as ever. "I know your emotions haven't been stable, and I understand why." He paused. "But I wanted to see if you've checked them before we move forward. We can't afford volatile emotions getting in the way-"

"Volatile emotions?" Tony interrupted, the air in the room dropping. "Why don't you just say what you mean, Daredevil. That you think I'm a risk, that I'm going to get Spiderman killed." 

Daredevil's shoulders tensed and he said carefully, "With the way this discussion is going it's starting to lean towards that, yes." 

Tony took a step forward, veins prominent against his pale neck, anger in every motion. "You think I would _ever_ put my kid at risk? You think I'm a liability, huh?"

"I think you don't have the stability to think critically in a life or death situation," Daredevil said, finally taking a step forward himself. "I think you have been entertaining some thoughts people like us shouldn't entertain. I think if you go tonight you will put Peter's life at risk and it's not something I am willing to take a chance on."

Tony knew deep down Daredevil was right, that his emotions were out of control. That he was out of control. There was no telling what he would do when he saw the Sinister Six... when he saw Peter. What line he would cross. 

But Tony's own rage, hatred, and fear would never allow him to not go. To not go and save his kid. They would have to kill him if they wanted to stop him from going. And there was no _fucking_ way Daredevil was going to convince him to stay behind, while the devil swopped in to save Peter.

So he pushed aside Daredevil's warning, his advice, and said the thing that had never been spoken between them before but both men knew it. Knew it with all of their beings.

"You think just because I let you hang out with my kid that somehow you have a say in how I rescue him?" Tony spat, now mere feet from Daredevil. "You think you were secretly training Spiderman without my knowledge, don't you? You really thought you pulled the wool over my eyes... well, I knew about it. I knew about every meeting, every rendezvous and I _allowed_ it to happen." Venom dripped from his tongue, lacing each word with poison. Daredevil's muscles were tense, fists tightening, ready for Stark to attack him at any moment. "I allowed it, because you were harmless. You were something shiny and new for Peter to fawn over, and I knew the moment he tired of you he would come back to me, like he always does." Tony smiled now, pushing salt further into the wound. "Peter will always choose me in the end."

Daredevil's shoulders relaxed and his fists unclenched, confusing Tony. He stared at the man and he said with a solemnness Tony hadn't heard from him before, "He can't choose you if he's dead."

Tony stopped, smile falling, posture deflating. The words hit him right in the gut and his fire flickered, the embers cooling.

"I didn't come looking to fight Stark. I came because I am concerned... and not just about Peter, I'm concerned about you too. I won't pretend to care about your well-being, because frankly I don't, but I'm concerned of what you may become after tonight." Daredevil said, slow.

"I know how much of a positive effect Peter has had on you, whether you've noticed it yourself. I've seen you change, Stark... I've seen you become a better man. A better hero." Daredevil turned, walking towards the door now. "Don't let that change go. Remember the lines we are not meant to cross. Strengthen your resolve and be the man Peter deserves to have as a mentor." Daredevil left, the doors sliding shut behind him, leaving Tony alone.

Alone with his anger, his grief... his thoughts. 

He sat back down in his chair, trembling slightly. His rage left like the sudden abatement of a downpour, leaving the world hazy and new.

He looked at his reflection in the Ironman mask, not surprised at how ghastly he looked. He hadn't bothered to take care of himself much since Peter had been kidnapped, not seeing the point in keeping up appearances. He wanted the world to know how he felt without having to say it. He could simply show how devastated he was by his appearance alone.

Having Peter ripped from his world had affected Tony more than he ever thought it could. He didn't realize how much the kid meant to him until he was gone, until jealousy was searing through his veins, spitting at Daredevil that Peter was his.

Until Daredevil made him see how unraveled he was, and how close he was to crossing a line that he couldn't uncross. A line that would forever separate him and Peter, even more so than the physical separation they had now. Peter would never look at Tony the same, would never see the man he thought Tony to be.

The man Tony tried so desperately to be every day for Peter.

The man he almost threw away, because of fear. Because of anger.

The anger still sat there, growling in its cave, keeping the embers burning, but it no longer controlled him. It no longer sang in his veins and made his head turn.

It kept him grounded, and realistic. It allowed him to do what Daredevil told him to do. Strengthen his resolve and fight.

Fight for Spiderman. Fight against the Sinister Six. And fight to be the man deserving to rescue Peter.

He stood up from his chair, mask clenched in his hands and the reflection looking back at him sat right with Tony. He was ready. 

He left his workshop to join the rest of his team. It was time to bring Peter home.

_________________________________________

Daredevil walked the perimeter of the warehouse, listening for movement inside. When he reached his starting point again he motioned for Black Widow to join him. She slipped out of the shadows and was by his side in seconds. Her heartbeat was steady, the steadiest Daredevil had heard in a long time. He had come to realize through his abilities that every person's heartbeats had their own distinctions if you listened carefully enough.

Spiderman's was faster than the normal human's, probably a contribution of his mutant DNA, but even with its faster rhythm Daredevil could tell how calm he was in battle. How in his element he was when listening for his heartbeat. It never skipped, never raised, always fast and sure, just like Spiderman himself.

Stark's seemingly lack of a heartbeat always unsettled Daredevil. If the man wasn't so open about his emotions, Matt was sure he would never be able to read him. His heartbeat was there of course, but was muddled by the arc reactor. Daredevil could only hear it when he was close to the man, which was almost never. He heard it during their talk in the workshop, heard it beating away against the reactor. Sounding like a hammer against metal, loud and sharp. It was the only thing that kept Matt from lunging at the man, from losing his own temper.

Tony's heartbeat told Matt all he needed to know. For all of his bravado and his carefully chosen words. Tony knew Daredevil was right about his temperament. 

He just wasn't ready to believe it.

Leaving the workshop Matt headed to the training room that Bruce had shown him at one point during the week. Had let him know he was welcome to use it whenever he needed. Matt had never taken him up on it but after his talk with Stark he needed to let off some steam.

No one was in there, thankfully, and Matt removed his batons, ready to beat the shit out of some dummies. 

He would never admit he imagined Stark's essence, his heartbeat, as the dummies as he slammed the butt off his baton into it, knocking it over with a resounding thud. 

He didn't show it to Stark but the man's words had gotten to him. Had sunk under his skin, absorbing into his blood, twisting and writhing within him. He kicked a dummy off its post, sending it careening into the matted wall.

Stark _knew_ about his training sessions with Peter and had said nothing about it, not even to Peter. He was sure Spiderman would've told him if Stark had approved of their training sessions, would've been ecstatic that Ironman acknowledged Peter's diligence in training. Peter would've been over the moon about it and told Daredevil without hesitation, he was sure of it.

So Stark willingly kept Peter in the dark about his knowledge. Had let Peter worry about him finding out, had never tried to quell his fears. 

Another dummy was sent crashing to the ground, Daredevil running over to the next.

But that wasn't true. Peter wasn't worried about Stark finding out because he thought he wouldn't approve of Spiderman training with Daredevil. He was scared Stark would find out because Matt had convinced Peter that it would be bad, that they couldn't continue if he did. He had put the fear in Peter, he never tried to quell it.

He stopped inches from the dummy before him, Stark's essence disappearing, and his own took its place.

He stood up straight, sheathing his batons. Matt was breathing hard from the exertion of the training but was breathing hard at his own confrontation.

He made Stark face himself, it was only fitting Matt did the same. 

He knew how hypocritical he was being in confronting Stark about his emotions. He could've said the same to any of the Avengers. He should've said the same to himself a long time ago. They were all on the edge of the line, toeing it, preparing to cross it every day they drew closer to finding Peter. It wasn't just Stark. It was an issue all of them were facing together, and yet somehow facing alone.

Stark had just been the easiest target, the easiest one to pick apart. To feel superior to.

And goddammit Matt wanted to feel superior to him. Wanted to be above Stark just _once_ , because he knew he was never above Stark in anything. Not in talent, not in skill, not in heroism... and not to Peter.

Unlike Stark, Matt was not delusional to think Spiderman couldn't have other mentors and people to look up to. Couldn't have other people in his life, but he would be lying to himself if Peter didn't draw out a side of Matt that he didn't even know existed.

Jealousy was ugly, and now sat with Matt at his kitchen table every night for dinner. Peter's light had cast a shadow so wide that Matt couldn't help but fall into it. The shadows he was used to, he found comfort in them. Darkness was his specialty, he lived it in constantly and not just metaphorically. But he felt the darkness tint his heart the longer he spent with Peter.

Just like how Peter brought out the best in Stark, Matt was realizing Peter brought out the worst in him. It was something he constantly had to check with himself. He noticed how during their team ups if an enemy hurt Peter, even just a scratch, that Matt's attacks became more precise, more deadly. That when Peter talked about any of the Avengers his mood soured. That if Peter was late to their sessions, fear took hold of him, assuming the worst.

Spiderman had entered his life, blazing in his light, and Matt welcomed it. He liked the kid, more than he cared to admit, and now that he was gone Matt noticed the darkness that much more. It was no longer a comfort, it sat cold on his shoulders, weighing him down until he felt like he couldn't sink any lower.

It was something he would have to confront about himself, something he needed to fix before he could find Peter.

He didn't want Peter to see him like this. To see the ugliness within him. He was sure the kid had seen enough ugliness to last a lifetime. 

Jealousy was not welcome at his table, but now that it was here, it seemed rude to ask it to leave.

He would have to live with it for now, but keep it at bay. He meant what he said to Stark, about being concerned for the man too. Ironman was an important symbol to the world and he didn't want to see it tainted. To see all of the good he had done slip away. He also knew that if Ironman turned dark, turned into something even uglier than jealousy, that Daredevil was incapable of stopping him. And that alone terrified him.

Matt had stood there for an indescribable amount of time before Black Widow entered, saying nothing about the destroyed dummies littering the training room floor, instead opting for the words that they had all been waiting for, "It's time."

Daredevil said nothing as he left the room with her, the dummy he imaged to be himself the only thing left standing in that room, watching him walk away, feelings still unresolved.

___________________________

They had paired off at the harbor. Daredevil and Black Widow, Cap and the Winter Solider, Falcon and Hawkeye, Banner and Ironman. Bruce had come mainly because if one of them, or Spiderman, required medical assistance in the battle to come, but it was unspoken that the Hulk might make an appearance and that was something they would have to accept in the moment.

The team split off, searching each warehouse, knowing it would take hours to cover each one. S.H.I.E.L.D had offered its assistance but the team had vetoed against it. They didn't want to take the risk of spooking the Sinister Six with the amount of bodies on the ground. The success of the rescue hinged on stealth and the element of surprise. If they could take on the Sinister Six unprepared it was the best tactic in assuring Spiderman's safety. 

Natasha and Matt had already went through two warehouses, both seeming unlikely to house the Sinister Six with its completely open floor plan. They searched for secret back rooms, or cellars that sometimes existed in these old warehouses when the area was used by mobs a while ago. Neither warehouse had either and they continued on to the next. The one they stood at now, making their way quietly up the fire escape and into an open window.

The moon hung low, casting a ghostly white through the halls of the warehouse. Dust sprang into the air as their feet touched the ground and the pipes creaked eerily above. They stuck to the walls, popping into each room to search thoroughly. Matt listened for heartbeats and movement but his senses only detected Black Widow's. 

They rejoined in the hallway making their way into a larger space, cardboard covering the windows, allow darkness to settle with the dust. Natasha stilled as she allowed her eyes to adjust but Daredevil pushed onwards, not needing the same.

He came to an office, the pipes rattling above. The room had nothing more than a couch and a desk. He turned to leave when a smell hit him. It wasn't a particularly strange smell given the environment, it smelled like must and stench, but something about it was off. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, it was almost the kind of smell from someone who hadn't properly showered in a long time. It was sweaty and greasy. But Matt couldn't be sure.

Natasha came up behind him, touching his shoulder lightly and motioned for him to follow. They made their way down to the basement, a maze of hallways and doors that would take a while to search. They checked each one, the pipes rattling even harder down here. Each room sat bare, with no hint of anyone there. They searched the last room, a room with no windows and only the door to go in and out of. It looked to be simply a storage closet. They left it and walked further down the hallway, spying a pair of double doors at the very end. Before they could reach it, someone called them on their comms.

"Avengers! Electro has been spotted in the upper west side, heading towards Harlem." Steve's voice crackled in their ears. "Assemble!"

Instantly, Daredevil and Black Widow were running out of the warehouse to join the others. They ran down the alleyways never breaking stride and something sat uneasy in Daredevil, something he couldn't pinpoint. He slowed his run, Black Widow doing the same, looking at him confused.

She said nothing though as he came to a stop with her besides him. They both naturally slunk into a shadow of a warehouse, disappearing from the main alleyway connecting the warehouses. 

He spoke low as his thoughts ran a mile a minute, "How many drifters do you think stay in these warehouses?"

"I would assume some, most of these warehouses are abandoned. It's a good place to stay," Natasha answered just as quietly, already assessing that Daredevil needed to bounce his thoughts off of her.

"If they did there would be signs of them staying there, right? Like some clothes, a bag, even just some disturbance in the dust."

Natasha nodded, "Of course, they wouldn't be trying to hide and even if they did they couldn't get rid of all all of the evidence of them being there."

"Right," Daredevil breathed, all of his jumbled thoughts coming together like a jigsaw puzzle. "I got a faint smell back there, I wasn't quite sure what it was and I'm still not a 100% sure but it was like someone hadn't showered in a while."

Black Widow paused, her own mind churning like gears, and she said low, "There was no sign of anyone there... not even an animal. You wouldn't pick up on that if no one had been there."

"I don't know how it's possible, but something isn't sitting right with me. No warehouse should look that untouched."

Natasha said no more as she spoke into her comms, "Steve, something was off with the warehouse Daredevil and I inspected. We need to look at it again."

Steve's voice crackled into life as he answered, "Affirmative. The rest of us will track down Electro, stay on the line and report back anything suspicious."

"Copy," Natasha said, and without another word the duo headed back to the warehouse, sticking to the shadows even closer than before.

They approached the warehouse, climbing in through a broken crack in the wall and found themselves back in the basement. They were quiet as they moved about the room, both of them tense and sure-footed as they wound their way around discarded furniture to the door.

They stepped out into the hallway, faced again with the double doors they hadn't yet traversed through. They kept low as they approached, pushing the doors open slightly before slipping inside.

They stood in a courtyard, a single tree standing tall in its grass. The open air whipped into the room, bringing a chill along with it, and both heroes looked to the sky seeing a massive skylight broken, only small shards of glass remained, clinging to the edges of the ceiling. The entire floor was littered with glass, Matt able to see it all through the echolocation the sound of the wind was providing him. Black Widow stepped over it carefully, looking at the fragments and stilled at one of them. She picked it up gently, and held it in her palm. Matt's breath caught as the smell hit him and he knew what it was before she said it, "It's blood."

"Spiderman's to be precise."

Matt moved before he could fully process the new voice but it wasn't quick enough as something large and mechanical smacked him into the wall of the courtyard, cracking it under his back. Black Widow's gun was already drawn, shooting at the intruder but a gust of wind pushed her back, falling backwards into the shards of glass.

Vulture stood there, chest heaving, and anger lighting his eyes. He said nothing more as he flew at Black Widow, grabbing her ankle and lifting her up through the skylight. Daredevil removed himself from the wall, making to follow her, but ducked just in time as Scorpion's tail pierced the spot he had been in a moment before.

"Let those two play," Scorpion laughed, "We're gonna have a fun time all on our own."

Matt removed his batons, running towards the tree. Scorpion chased after him, darting his tail forward, trying to pierce Matt with his poison. Matt ran up the trunk of the tree, hooking his batons in the lower branch, and twisted to propel his kick at Scorpion's chest. 

Scorpion jumped back in time but Matt unhooked the batons, allowing the momentum of the kick to carry him further than Scorpion thought and his feet connected with his throat, throwing the man backwards into the glass.

Matt took the moment and tapped his comms in his ear calling out over it, "Spiderman is back in the warehouse! Everyone come back!"

Scorpion shot up off the floor, wrapping his arm around Matt's bicep and hurled Daredevil into the tree, the branch splintering under the weight. Matt laid stunned for only a moment before he flipped back up onto his feet, ignoring the pain shooting down his leg. One of the glass shards got lodged in it, he ripped it out quick, forgoing the golden rule of not removing an object stuck in your leg. It started to bleed freely and Matt could only pray it didn't nick an artery. He couldn't fight with glass sticking out of his leg, he'll have to deal with the consequences of removing it later.

"Ain't no one gonna hear you, _devil_. We got your lines jammed, it's just you and us." Scorpion cackled.

"Where is he?" Daredevil asked, voice low and deadly, his grip on his batons tightening, ready for Scorpion to make the first strike.

"I wouldn't concern yourself with that, you won't be alive long enough anyways," Scorpion said, running at Matt, tail shooting forward, just narrowly missing Matt's thigh as he leapt to the side. He brought his baton down on Scorpion's knee. The man roared as it shattered, his tail coming up and slicing Matt's cheek. The cut was shallow but blood still dripped down his face.

He ignored it as he brought his other baton down on Scorpion's head, not as hard as the knee, but enough to knock the man out.

Scorpion crumbled to the floor, groaning. The hit hadn't completely knocked him out but was enough to keep him down. He wasn't going anywhere with that shattered knee cap either.

Daredevil sprinted out the double doors, heading back up the steps to the main area. Blood was spurting from his leg and the cut on his face was starting to burn. His vision swam before him as the poison traveled through his system.

He gritted his teeth and pushed past it, he kept his heart rate as steady as he could not wanting the poison to travel faster through his blood stream. He knew he only had mere minutes before the hallucinations started, and only some more minutes after that until he was dead. 

He had to find Peter before that happened.

He was up the stairs, listening intently for heartbeats, batons still gripped tight in his palms. He stood still, listening, calming the adrenaline rushing through his veins, to pick up on something and his ears perked at the familiar fast heartbeat just beyond the walls.

He ran to the front doors of the warehouse, no longer able to calm his own heartbeat as adrenaline kicked into overdrive as the sound of the other heartbeat grew closer and closer.

Daredevil thrust the front doors open and the chilly air stuck to his sweaty skin.

A truck stood before him, its back doors open and the heartbeat he had been desperately searching for for weeks on end was now right in front of him.

Peter was on his knees in the back of the truck as Electro stood before him, closing the doors.

He couldn't see Peter's face but he imagined his eyes widened as he looked upon Daredevil, bleeding and panicked, and the sound of his name being whispered in shock propelled Daredevil forward. 

Electro closed the doors and the truck started, burning rubber as it sped away from the warehouse and away from Daredevil.

Electro said nothing to Matt as he took off, turning into a streak of electricity that crackled through the air and phased inside the truck.

Daredevil didn't stop as he ran, feet slapping hard against the pavement as he chased after the truck. He hastily climbed up a fire escape and stumbled onto the roof. Running at a speed he didn't know he possessed as he followed the truck that stole one of the most important people to him. The only person that mattered in that moment.

He wasn't going to lose him now.

Red trailed behind him, a familiar site to the district, as he became nothing more than a red dot amongst the rays of the moon, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Praying that he could save Spiderman before the poison took hold.

Praying that he could save him before he died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	14. Fall of Kings

_"And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change. Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap; The one in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other to enjoy by rage and war. These signs forerun the death or fall of kings."_ \- Shakespeare, Richard II

Peter sat weak in the truck, head swimming, and doubt creeping at the corners of his mind. Electro had phased back into the truck, turning back into his human form. He grabbed Peter's arm and dragged him back further, to the corner of the truck farthest away from the door. Peter didn't fight back and allowed the man to drag him, his strong hand keeping Peter grounded.

He was still reeling from the affects of the anesthesia, not quite lucid, and untrusting of his eyes. He had first awoken in the arms of Rhino, his head jostling as the man ran. His vision was blurry and the heat coming off of Rhino's body lulled him back into a fitful sleep. 

He awoke again as Rhino put him in the back of the truck and the men surrounding him spoke in quick tones. He was able to focus his vision on the three men but lost sight of two as they rounded the sides of the truck, car doors slamming shut a second later. Peter was able to push himself to his knees on shaky hands, looking to Electro for answers when the sound of a door banging open drew his attention.

A red figure came sprinting out, cheek a stark red as blood dribbled down, and even behind the mask, Peter could sense the panic that was on the man's face. He looked to Peter, body frozen for merely a second, and Peter felt more unstable than he ever had before.

"Daredevil?" He whispered in shock, and he lost sight of the man as the doors to the truck shut and the car took off, careening down the road. 

Peter now sat in the truck with Electro next to him, talking a mile a minute.

"How the fuck did he figure it out?" Electro screeched at the tiny window that connected the back and front of the truck. "Mysterio said they wouldn't be able to detect anything!"

"I don't know," A voice hissed back, his voice familiar but Peter wasn't awake enough to pinpoint who it belonged to. "I do not know the extent of the devil's abilities. He must possess something that could see beyond the illusions."

Peter was trying to process what the men were talking about but his thoughts were stuck on the face of Daredevil standing right before him, and he was wondering if he too was some kind of illusion like Ben had been. If he was just a figment of Peter's broken mind. The men saying the word, _'illusion'_ didn't help the doubts from abating. 

His head felt heavy and his eyes even more so. Electro's grip on his arm had stayed and Peter found himself relishing in the touch. Loose memories, feeling like shifting grains of sand, were coming back to him as they slipped by. He remembered the dark and the cold. He remembered Ben and his shining blue eyes wet with tears. He remembered Doc Ock bringing light to him again. He remembered feeling so relieved to be touched and held. 

He remembered feeling grateful.

All of the memories overwhelmed him, as quick as they were, and he found himself trembling. Feeling himself lose control. 

Electro noticed his shaking and his other hand went to grip Peter's other arm.

"Hey kid, it's alright. We're gonna get you out of here, okay?"

Peter felt himself nod but didn't say anything. Not sure if what Electro told him was what he wanted. 

He did want out of the truck, it was dark with the only source of light coming from the little window, and it was bringing Peter back to the room. Back to the nothingness and he was terrified of being in there again. His panic was only slight because of the presence of Electro, because of his touch. Peter wasn't alone in the dark and that was making all of the difference in that moment.

He also remembered Doc Ock promising him that they would take care of him and he believed him. He believed these men were trying to help him, but there was an emotion flaring like his Spidey Sense. An emotion trying to warn him not to trust, not to feel safe.

The emotion started to rise when he thought of Daredevil, when he saw the man running towards him.

But his fear was more powerful than the unknown emotion, his gratitude was greater than whatever whispered to him. He drew his knees to his chest as the car continued driving on, never taking his eyes off Electro as if he were worried the man would vanish into nothing if his eyes strayed.

But despite trying to keep his eyes open, he found them starting to close once again, drowsiness from the anesthesia still in his system, when a crash on the roof of the car jolted him upright. 

_"Shit!"_ Electro shouted, his human form disappearing in a blink as an electric surge shot up through the ceiling and crackled along the metal.

The car swerved and Peter tumbled on the floor, his head smacking against the wall of the truck bed. The car righted itself as Peter pushed himself onto his knees, head throbbing painfully. He was blinking away stars and could hear the muffle sounds of fighting on the roof of the truck as feet stomped across the top. He swore he could almost hear Electro's voice, loud and angry, but his heart pounding in his chest drowned out the sounds. His hands were trembling and his thoughts sluggish. His emotions were still frayed from his time in the room, and he didn't feel stable emotionally or physically. 

Everything he had experienced in the past weeks caught up to him like a freight train. Every emotion, every injury, all of the fights he had endured with himself and his enemies were brought down upon him and only one face stuck through in his mind.

Ben Parker on his death bed, calling his name. Bloody hands grasping Peter's own, fear shining in his uncle's eyes. And then nothing.

Nothing left to look at. Nothing left to see.

Blue eyes turning gray. Unseeing. Unknowing. 

Gone...

And the memory sat heavy in Peter's heart, as it always did. Peter always returned to this memory, always came back to it when he wanted to punish himself. When he wanted to torture himself.

It was only fitting at his lowest moment he came back to it, as he sat shaking in the back of a truck, wondering who would open those doors next. Who would be the next face he saw.

Wondered, even though he knew it would be a lie, if Ben's face would be there again. If Ben's eyes would be blue or gray, his hands able to touch Peter. To hold him tight.

The fantasy sent shivers down his spine and the memory of Ben's death sat as still as a picture in a frame in his mind's eye.

Only one could be true and in his heart, he knew which one it was. And he knew which one Ben would want him to accept. 

Peter didn't know if he was ready to accept it or not, but he knew that he wouldn't want his uncle to see him like this. To see him so broken, frail, and pitiful. That he would be devastated at the state of Peter and the thought of seeing that look on his uncle's face brought Peter back. It allowed him to ground himself and not succumb to the helplessness he felt. He still felt confusion at his clashing emotions and memories but he was able to see more clearly than he had in a long time.

He needed to collect himself and be the man his uncle always thought he could be. To be strong in the face of darkness.

Peter was going to try, he just didn't know how long he'd be able to fight against it again.

Electricity sizzled down the walls, electrifying the entire truck, making every surface a live wire. Peter yelped as a shock ran through his system, but within moments the electricity was gone as a wail sounded off above them. The truck swerved again and Peter was able to brace his head with his arms as he tumbled once more into the wall. He hit the side harder this time and laid there stunned, still reeling from the effects of the electric discharge. 

Swift movements sounded on the roof as someone above ran to the end of the truck. Peter managed to push himself to his knees as the door shifted and swung open. The moonlight filled the tight space as red flooded his vision. Daredevil stood there, bloody and unsteady, chest heaving and face slick with sweat. The cut on his cheek looked especially nasty and seemed to be almost festering with something. His head turned towards Peter and his vision swam even more at the sight of his mentor.

"Peter," Daredevil breathed, letting go of the door as he moved into the truck and Peter's heart hammered in his throat as he scrambled away from the man.

Daredevil looked wounded at the action and slowed his approach. His skin looked sickly up close with the moonlight gleaming off the beads of sweat that trailed down his throat, and Daredevil's hands were shaking. Peter could hear how raspy his breathing was now that he was in close proximity with him and the images of Uncle Ben's blood pooling under him as he gasped Peter's name rose up again to the forefront of his mind. 

Daredevil looked just how Uncle Ben did the day he died.

"Peter, it's me. It's Daredevil." The man wheezed, kneeling down before the teenager, trying to look as non-threatening as possible. 

"I-I don't know," Peter stuttered, taking in all of Daredevil, he could even smell his sweat in the air but a part of Peter was still unsure if Daredevil was really there. If he was just like Ben. Peter didn't know if he could handle it if he got his hopes up again, only to have reality come crashing down on him. "I don't know if you're real." Peter whispered, backing himself into the corner of the truck, trembling, and the pain in his head intensified.

Peter shut his eyes to stave off the dizziness but to also not look at Daredevil. The man seemed so _real_ and Peter couldn't handle it. Couldn't handle the fantasy his mind made up.

"Matt," Daredevil said.

Peter opened his eyes, surprised. "What?" He asked, his question no louder than a whisper. 

"My name... it's Matt. I never told you that day. I-I should've. Ever since you went missing I swore I would tell you the next time I saw you." Daredevil said, blood from his open wounds dripping onto the floor and the man looked close to collapsing but his eyes were firmly on Peter and he didn't waver as he tried to convince Peter he wasn't an illusion.

Peter swallowed but the lump in his throat remained. His headache was worsening and he noticed a wetness sliding down the back of his neck. His thoughts were jumbling together, putting together pieces of his past, trying to remember that day with Daredevil. The memory was scattered but Peter latched onto a feeling, he felt so nervous to tell Daredevil his name, so worried the devil would be upset with him for revealing his identity. But when he told him Daredevil had looked... almost happy. Like it was something he was waiting for Peter to tell him for a long time. He remembered Daredevil not returning the favor and how he wasn't even surprised at it. How it had been enough for Daredevil just to accept him as Peter, and not just Spiderman.

How Matt knew that was something only the two of them could've known and Peter's psyche wouldn't come up with a random name for Daredevil, even as broken as it was. The man was holding his hand forward, palm face up, letting Peter know if he needed to test he could. To be sure.

Peter didn't need to test, but he wanted to feel something real so he grabbed the man's hand as the truck screeched to a stop.

Tears fell from his eyes as he said breathlessly, "You're real."

Daredevil smiled and tightened his grip, "I am. Let's go home."

Peter laughed and the pain in his head shot behind his eyes, sharp, and his grip loosened as he said, "Matt-"

A mechanical arm latched around Daredevil's waist, yanking him out of the truck and throwing him to the streets. Doctor Octopus appeared from the side of the truck, anger igniting every muscle in his body as he stalked towards the devil.

Peter crawled to the edge of the truck, about to hop out, eyes looking only at Daredevil when Octavius whipped around to stare at him.

 _"Stay."_ Doc Ock hissed and Peter froze on the spot, fear crawling up his spine. His hands shook as he gripped the edge but he made no move to leave. Panic was seizing him and Octavius must've noticed as he approached Peter. His hand came up and Peter flinched back, but it simply rested on his cheek, cupping it. "Don't move... I'll be right back, okay?"

The touch was warm and gentle, and confusion was creeping into Peter's mind again. His head wound wasn't helping as the pain was radiating down his body now. making it difficult to focus and think clearly. Memories of the room came up again and Peter slid further back into the truck and Octavius smiled, satisfied with Peter's response.

"Don't fucking touch him," Daredevil said as he spat blood onto the asphalt. He was on his feet, but he looked like a gust of wind could knock him over. "Don't you dare _fucking_ touch him."

Octavius' eyes narrowed as he released Peter and turned back to his foe. "Tell me devil, how is Scorpion's poison faring? Have the hallucinations started yet?" Octavius sneered, his mechanical limbs breaking through the pavement with each step. "I wonder what your mind will conjure up, what fears you will have to confront."

Peter's breathing was labored, taking in Doc Ock's words. His eyes traveled to the cut on Daredevil's cheek but snapped back to the scene as Matt unsheathed his batons, his grip tight even as his hands shook.

"You can do what you want to me but let Spiderman leave." Daredevil said. "You've done enough to him."

Octavius' arm sprung forward, catching Daredevil by the neck and lifting him into the air. The batons clattered to the floor. " _Enough?_ " He spat, arms clicking furiously at their masters spike in temper. "I've done what you couldn't! I've kept him safe, and I will continue to keep him safe!" Octavius raged, his tentacle closing tightly around Daredevil's throat.

"Safe?" Matt somehow managed to laugh, despite the arm crushing his wind pipe. "Then who's blood was that we found? Cause surely it couldn't have been his if you're keep-"

Matt's voice gave out as Doc Ock squeezed and threw the man to the ground, hard enough to crack the pavement. Peter jumped at the sound, more tears falling as he looked at his mentor still struggling against Doctor Octopus' grip despite everything. 

"That was a mistake," Octavius breathed, looking wild. "It will not happen again." Matt choked as the arm pushed on his chest, crushing him. 

Daredevil caught Peter's eyesight and even though Peter couldn't see his eyes underneath the mask it was almost as if he could hear the devil's silent plea. 

His plea for Peter to run.

Peter shook even harder as fear grabbed him tighter, but he set his feet down on the asphalt, cool and crumbling underneath and he didn't run. He didn't run from the scene like Matt wanted, he didn't try to escape.

His mind was teetering as was his body, still under the anesthesia's influence, as well as the head wound. He touched the back of his head gingerly and his fingers came away red. He still wasn't sure what he felt or what he thought, he only knew he wasn't going to watch Daredevil die.

He wasn't going to lose someone he loved again. Uncle Ben's smile flashed before his eyes and it gave Peter the strength to move forward. He walked slow and unsteady towards Doctor Octopus and Daredevil struggled more so, trying to shake his head. Trying to tell Peter to not do this, to leave him, to run.

But Matt knew Peter better than that, he wouldn't leave him. He wouldn't abandon someone he didn't even know let alone his mentor.

Peter approached, absolute terror gripping his every sense, but he pushed through it as he grabbed Octavius' hand. 

The doctor whipped around, shocked to see Peter standing there. The teenager was shaking and his head was bowed as he tenderly held the doctor's hand and when he lifted his head, his hazel eyes were glistening in the moonlight, wet with tears and wide with fear.

"P-please Doctor O-Octavius," He begged, other arm wrapping around the doctor's own as Peter held onto him. "P-please stop."

The tentacle crushing Daredevil eased its pressure but not enough to release its grip. The devil sucked in a grateful breath of air as he watched the scene before him.

"Peter..." Octavius said, his conviction starting to waver as he stared at the teenager clinging to him as if he were a small child. "I can't let him leave here."

Peter shook his head, his grip tightening on the doctors arm. "You can! You can..." He paused as he thought, "Y-you said he was poisoned. You can let the poison take him." Peter's eyes shone brighter as fresh tears came with the sentence, at the idea of Daredevil dying slowly from poison, overcome with hallucinations and awful pain.

It would be an ugly death. In a way Octavius crushing the man was merciful compared to Scorpion's poison.

"Y-you don't have to kill him yourself," Peter pleaded. 

A part of Otto was stunned that Peter didn't try to attack him, didn't try to run. Instead he was groveling at Octavius' feet, begging for him to spare Daredevil's life. Begging the man tasked with caring for his well being to not kill someone he knew, when Peter probably had the means to stop Octavius from doing so himself.

Keeping him locked in that room had completely destroyed any fight the kid had left. Even after watching Otto strangle his friend Peter didn't try and stop him with action. He only resorted to words and even those felt flimsy as he shook so hard Otto's arm was rattling.

It was the one act of courage Peter had left, and Octavius couldn't ignore it. He had to show Peter he wasn't heartless, he wasn't cruel, if he truly wished to have an actual relationship with the kid. If he wanted to keep the teenager safe, then Peter would have to trust that Otto had his best interests at heart, and letting Daredevil not die by his own hand would be the start of that. 

Looking at the man gasping for air let Otto see all he needed to know anyways. Daredevil was not long for this world. 

He could have his cake and eat it too.

Otto lifted Peter's chin to have their eyes meet and he smiled softly as he said, "Okay. We will leave him."

Peter sobbed in relief, ducking his head down into Otto's shoulder and mumbled against the fabric, "Thank you, thank you. thank you."

He touched the boy's head, smoothing down his hair and coming to the back of his skull, feeling the hot stickiness of blood there and frowned at the substance coating his hand. 

"You're hurt," Octavius whispered. "We need to go and get you looked at."

Peter's arms dropped from Octavius' but the man grabbed his shoulders leading him away from Daredevil as the man rasped, "No... no... come back."

Spiderman tried to turn his head to look at the man but Octavius forced it forward, saying in his ear, "Don't look back. It'll just hurt you more."

Peter kept moving forward, even though his slow steps told the doctor he was reluctant to do so as Daredevil's voice shouted for them. Shouted for Peter to run, to save himself. The teenager whimpered at that, wiping hastily at his eyes and Doc Ock rubbed his shoulders reassuringly, letting him know he made the right decision. 

He helped Peter into the passenger seat as he climbed into the drivers seat and no more was said as the engine started and they drove off. Octavius looked into the side mirror to see Daredevil's head thrown back as an animalistic cry could be heard on the wind.

He couldn't help the smile that came as he looked at Peter curled up in the passenger seat, staring dully at nothing. Peter had chosen them, _him_ over Daredevil. Otto wasn't sure if the same could be said if it had been Tony Stark he was throttling and not the devil of Hell's Kitchen but he would take it for what it was.

A win.

His hand came down comfortingly on Peter's head and he soothed the boy, saving his words for another time.

\-----------------------------------------------------

Matt laid there as he felt his own mentor leaning over him.

"It seems you lost kid." Stick said, looking down at his fallen apprentice. "It wouldn't be the first time either."

"Shut up," Matt wheezed, he could still feel the weight of Doctor Octopus' tentacles on his chest. His leg was unmoving as blood stuck to the fabric, he could still feel it pulsing out of him. His fingers didn't even move as he stared up at the sky, unseeing of anything, but still feeling the presence of his mentor.

"You don't really get to tell me to shut up. You're in no position to talk." Stick said, sounding almost bored with the conversation. He went to sit down besides Matt and Matt could hear him chewing on something.

"What are you eating?" He asked.

Stick answered in between bites, "Just some twizzlers."

Matt laughed, hollow, and the laugh quickly turned into a cough as he choked on his own spit and no doubt blood. It dribbled out of the corners of his mouth, sliding into his ears. As if his death wasn't already disgusting enough.

"Even in my hallucinations you don't care." Matt choked, spitting more blood and spit out of the side of his mouth.

Stick shrugged, "I've always cared Matty, you just didn't want to see it."

"Whatever... I'd rather die in silence if you don't mind. I don't really need to be told that I failed." Matt said bitterly, wishing he could see the stars above him. He knew from his vague memories as a child, before the accident, that stars were a rare sight in New York. There was too much light pollution for that, but on some nights you could see the big dipper if you looked hard enough. Matt had a feeling the sky was clear tonight. Fitting in a way, for him to die unable to see the stars.

"No... it seems you don't." Stick sighed. "But that kid, he's going to have to deal with it for the rest of his life."

Tears pricked at the corner of Matt's eyes as hot anger flooded over him. He could feel Peter's terror as he walked over, could feel his heartbeat hammering out of control, so unlike Peter in battle. He saw the difference in Spiderman when he approached him in the truck, the way Peter recoiled in fear of him. He thought Matt to be an illusion, something to deceive him, and he could only imagine what other mind games the Sinister Six put him through.

The Peter he saw was not the Peter he knew, and the thought that he failed in taking him away from that made Matt feel more sick than the poison did.

"He was like a broken bird, he didn't even fight for you Matty. The only thing he did was beg for that brute not to kill you, it's rather pathetic." Stick continued, leaning over Matt again and Daredevil could swear he felt the man's breath ghosting over his face.

"Shut up," Matt said with more venom although his voice still came out croaking and raspy.

"I don't know why I expected more from this prodigy of yours. After all if he was trained by you the kid was bound to be a failure-"

"Shut the fuck up!" Matt yelled, coughing again. "You don't know him-"

Stick interrupted, "I don't need to, I saw everything I needed to see. He's frail and untrained, unready for battle. You raised a child to be as emotional and _weak_ as you."

"Be quiet!" Matt shouted, trying to sound intimidating but it came out more like a plea than anything else. "You're not even fucking real, you're just the poison messing with my head."

Stick seemed thoughtful as he responded, "That may be true but I don't need to be real. In fact I'm better than the real Stick cause I'm saying everything that's already in your head." Daredevil felt the poke of Stick's fingers against his skull. "I'm only saying things you believe kid. That's the honest truth."

"No, it's not," Matt argued but his voice sounded weak even to him. 

A pair of footsteps approached, heavy. "He's right Daredevil. You are a failure and you trained Peter to be one too," Tony Stark said, coming to stand right besides Stick at Matt's fallen body.

"If you hadn't interfered in his life, he would've been stronger. Able to fight. He could've saved your life if you had left him alone," Stark said in an almost gleeful tone. "He could've been the better hero than us both but now we'll never know... all that wasted potential, gone." Tony snapped his fingers and laughed.

"The real you will rescue him," Matt said, pain shooting down his body, burning and burning. The poison was finally attacking him physically. His cheek stung as if a thousand bees had done it and the tears at the corners of his eyes now fell, no longer able to hold it back.

"Sure," Tony said. "But we both know Tony Stark is thissss close to falling off the wagon. To losing everything he built, and you're failure in rescuing Spiderman is just one more nudge to the edge. Hell, it might even be the final push." Ironman laughed.

Pain spasmed down his body, causing him to convulse and he couldn't stop the scream that tore from his throat. It was everywhere now, consuming him, preparing to swallow him whole. He could feel his consciousness start to fade but he fought against it.

He had to keep fighting. He was always a fighter and he be damned if he didn't die one either.

"Yeah yeah always a fighter," Stick echoed his thoughts. "Just like your daddy huh? It didn't turn out too great for him."

"Fuck you!" Matt snapped as another convulsion grabbed him, whiting out his senses for a moment. He came back as Tony said above him, "What's the point in fighting? You're going to die, might as well make it easy on yourself for once in your life."

Matt didn't answer as he tried to ignore their voices beating inside his head. He could feel his heart rate slowing, could almost feel the poison traveling through his veins. He was fading.

He was going to die as a failure, and Peter would blame himself.

He didn't want Peter to blame himself. He didn't want Spiderman to hold his death on his shoulders.

He had to fight, he had to fight for himself. For Foggy. For Karen.

For Peter.

He focused on the pain, allowing it to bring him to consciousness. He gasped against his own burning lungs, allowing the screams to tear from his throat as he felt all the pain. Allowed himself to be electrified back into the land of the living.

He could hear something in the distance, roaring above him, and he felt a new presence enter as it landed next to him. The sound of propellers quieting as a hand lifted his head.

"Daredevil," Tony breathed, breathless and panicked. "You look like shit."

Matt tried to laugh, really, but it came out as a cough as more blood bubbled from his mouth. The illusion Tony still stood besides Matt with Stick, but they remained quiet as the real one talked with him.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y scan him," Tony ordered and Matt tried to speak. Tried to tell him the one word that could save his life right now but words wouldn't come out as he convulsed again. 

He just needed to tell Tony he was poisoned, tell him that Doctor Octopus had driven off with Peter. Tell him any kind of important information but his fight was waning fast and his words along with it.

"Shit," He heard Tony say. "Don't die yet you asshole."

He was faintly aware his body was being lifted and wind was surrounding him as Tony's metal arms held him. "If you die Peter is going to be pissed with me and I can't have that." Tony was joking but Matt could feel his heartbeat, even through the suit.

It was beating frantically.

His last conscious thought before he faded was that he wondered if he was finally amongst the stars.

And how badly he wished he could see them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This update came a bit later than intended, I got pretty swamped with work so this had to fall on the back burner for a couple of days. I hope you like this chapter though, let me know your thoughts!


	15. Time Decays

_"O, how shall summer's honey breath hold out Against the wreckful siege of battering days, When rocks impregnable are not so stout, Nor gates of steel so strong, but Time decays?"_ \- Shakespeare, Sonnet 65

The air was crisp as humidity from the summer seemingly melted away overnight. The beginning of Autumn brought a chill that settled in ones bones like fresh snow settles on grassy knolls. The wind twisted, almost playfully, in the air, tossing Peter's curls and kissing the tip of his nose red. The bandage on the back of his head cooled in the night, still wet with blood, causing Peter to shiver.

He sat on a bench in a park all too familiar, and the cold of the night brought him back to the memories of the river. His parachute releasing as he flew from Vulture's grip, the fabric swallowing him as he writhed in it, trying to find the edge, trying to rip it free. The hard smack of the water as he fell and continued to descend, still twisting, still writhing. Oxygen stolen from his lungs as he struggled and struggled. Vision going black until he was pulled from the depths. Saved by Ironman.

He didn't show Tony then how scared he had been, how close he was to drowning.

Peter knew this was why he dreamt of the ocean so often, of the cold, dark sea. Why he equated the water with death. It had almost been his death after all, so it seemed fitting to personify the water as such in his mind. He stared out at the river now, still and gleaming from the reflections of lights across the way. The moon sat high, looking down upon him, basking him in a brilliance that Peter didn't feel within himself.

He felt like he was under the depths again, descending. And this time he didn't struggle, didn't fight for air. He let himself float further down and he was sure soon the light would be lost all together. Fear danced up his spine, settling in his nerves, but for once it didn't light him with panic. He was afraid of the darkness, of what it meant for him, but guilt ate at him, whispering that he didn't deserve the light.

Not after leaving Daredevil to die.

He could still hear Matt's voice calling out to him, weak and dying. Begging Peter to run, to save himself. Even as the devil lay defeated, death fast approaching, he was still thinking of Peter. 

Guilt sat in his mouth and he chewed it. It dried out his tongue like saltwater, leaving his voice unusable, and he swallowed, allowing it to sit cold and heavy in his stomach, digesting and churning. 

Peter had sat quiet in the car, allowing the guilt to make its way through his system, filling his entire being. Octavius' warm hand on Peter's head was the only comfort allowed. The man said nothing as he continued to drive, leaving the warehouse and joining the normal night traffic of Manhattan.

They drove until they reached a park, with Queens just across the river, and Peter looked to the jungle gym, remembering that night Vulture had taken him into the sky. Taken him so high Peter felt he was amongst the stars, could touch them if he only reached forward. And then he fell, his parachute wrapping around him like Icarus' burnt wings did to him. Falling from the heavens, knowing men were not meant to reach it.

And then the cold of the East River further enveloping him.

He didn't sit on the jungle gym again. Octavius took him to a bench, away from the lamp posts and under the cover of a large oak. He tended to his head wound and Peter sat with the silence of the night. The crickets were less as the weather cooled and the water seemed almost lifeless. A red neon sign from across the way cast its reflection on the river, looking like a trail of blood seeping into the water.

Peter wondered if Daredevil bled out before the poison took him. The guilt rumbled within him and he held himself as the doctor fixed a bandage to Peter's head.

"The cut isn't deep, you should be okay," Doc Ock said, moving to sit right besides Peter. He noticed Peter shivering and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in.

"We'll be leaving soon, we just need to find our compatriots first."

Peter hadn't realized that they were missing other members of the Sinister Six until this moment. His mind was still reeling from the day and he knew he was in shock, unable to fully process what had happened. But he remembered Electro being with them and the man had presumably fought Daredevil on top of the truck, and then he was gone. Peter hadn't really given him a second thought and the guilt roiled inside him again.

The leaves on the oak suddenly rustled intensely, a howl from an engine cutting through the silent night. Peter looked up to see Vulture descending to the ground, carrying Scorpion with him. He landed roughly, earning a pained grunt from Scorpion as he set him down on the bench on Peter's other side.

Peter looked to Mac, his face was an ashen gray and slicked with sweat. His pupils were wide and he looked close to passing out. Peter's eyes trailed his body, looking to his knee that was bent in a way that knees shouldn't bend and he swallowed at the sight of it. His eyes continue to stray and landed on his stinger, blood coating the tip, and Peter felt another chill course through his body. 

Daredevil's blood had dried and stained the stinger a rusty brown. Peter took his eyes off, unwilling to let his mind wander back to his fallen mentor. He couldn't think of what had happened, what he'd done.

Not now.

"Where?" was all Doc Ock asked of Vulture, looking to Scorpion with sympathy at his shattered knee. 

"Gone," Vulture said, curtly. "She snuck off after she knocked me down. Probably to track down her ally."

Otto nodded, his eyes looking dark, and the grip he had on Peter's shoulder tightened subconsciously. Peter said nothing, trying to process everything the Sinister Six were saying. He was unsure of who this "she" was, but she was someone that had fought against Vulture.

Was it a friend of Daredevil's? Matt had mentioned a PI in the past, a women he hired to help him out with cases since Matt, for obvious reasons, was unable to take pictures himself. Matt had mentioned he thought she was like them, someone with abilities, but he could never prove it. Peter had asked him once why he didn't just ask her and Matt had smiled saying, "Because then I would have to explain what my night job is." Which had seemed so obvious that Peter was embarrassed he asked in the first place.

Would Daredevil have risked his identity to ask the PI for help?

Peter wasn't convinced, and this was assuming the PI had abilities or even wanted to help rescue Peter. It was too much of a variable, one Daredevil wouldn't risk in hindsight.

Peter didn't have time to ponder further as Rhino showed up, stomping out of the shadows, helping keep Electro upright. He was in his human form, face bruised and bloody, and walking with a slight limp. It looked like his fight against Daredevil hadn't been in his favor.

"Where is Martin?" Vulture asked, eyes constantly scanning the area, looking for signs of friends or foes.

"Destroying the warehouse," Electro said, letting Rhino lower him onto the other bench opposite of Peter, Otto, and Mac. "Getting rid of the evidence."

Peter's blood ran cold, wondering if Daredevil's body would be taken by the flames. They hadn't been too far from the warehouse when Doc Ock had left him to die.

When Peter had left him to die.

No, not now. Not now.

"The whole event was quite a shit show, huh?" A voice said as a cloud of smoke lilted over the river, settling at Peter and the Sinister Six's feet. It dissipated and before them stood Mysterio, clad in his costume and dome.

Peter's eyes widened at his enemy, and his instincts shouted at him to run. He tensed in Doc Ock's hold, shrinking and pressing his back further into the bench, as if to get as far away from the man as possible. 

Vulture noticed Peter's reaction and stepped in between him and Mysterio, shielding the boy from the villain's line of sight. 

"Yeah it was, you flippant little bitch!" Scorpion shouted, face looking even more pale as he tried to stand. "Your fucking drones didn't work!"

Mysterio's posture straightened and he seemed almost upset at the accusation. "They did exactly what they were supposed to. The Avengers flocked like little pigeons to our Electro scene and they hid your warehouse from prying eyes."

Peter's body seized up at the mention of the Avengers, his heart beating wildly. Had Daredevil been with the Avengers? Were they attempting to save him? Like Doc Ock had saved him from the room.

Saved him... was that right? He had taken Peter out, away from darkness, from his own thoughts spiraling out of control. That was saving, right? Why did a part of him feel like it wasn't. 

His headache returned, sharp against his forehead, pulsating. He tried to ignore it as he focused on the conversation, but his palms felt clammy and waves of nausea rolled over him.

"Well clearly they didn't cause that red-clad fuck figured it out!" Electro hissed, wiping blood from his brow, glaring at Mysterio as if he was one second away from electrocuting the man. 

"The devil works in mysterious ways, no?" Mysterio laughed and ducked just in time as Rhino's fist swung through the air, missing him by mere inches. "Woah big guy! No need to touch the dome, I just got it polished!" Mysterio said, jumping back out of arms reach. Peter's Spidey Sense blazed dully behind his eyes as his headache worsened and he looked up at Mysterio, knowing the man was looking at him even without seeing his eyes. 

"You can ask Spidey here how the devil knew. They're friends yeah? Or I guess I should say _were_ friends." Mysterio laughed again, tossing his head back, the moon fully reflecting in his helmet.

His head was pounding now as the guilt boiled within him. He had nothing in his stomach, not having eaten for at least a day, but he felt like he was gonna puke. Doc Ock's hand moved to his head and it was burning. Peter closed his eyes, willing the headache to subside, the burning hand to be removed from his head, for the nausea to be kept at bay.

"Be quiet," Otto said, voice controlled but complete ice. Peter could hear his arms slithering along the grass, clicking in warning. 

But Mysterio either didn't realize the warning or decided not to heed it, "I mean that was pretty cold of ya Spidey, to leave your friend like that. I'm proud of you, I didn't think you had it in ya!"

Octavius' arms shot forward, trying to grab Mysterio and Peter bolted upright, eyes unseeing as he stumbled away from the bench. His vision was tunneling as his headache seared into his brain, pounding on his skull like it was a door it was trying to break down. 

He heard static in his ears and could feel someone grab his arm, stopping him from moving forward. The grip was firm as it pulled him backwards into a broad chest, holding him tight. The rush of the ocean filled his ears now and his vision was whiting out. He heard a voice calling his name, grabbing his face, but soon Peter was under water again.

Descending.

Descending.

Descending.

He swore he could see the red streak still glinting off the East River as he was pulled under, unconscious in Rhino's arms, weightless once again.

\-----------------------------------------

Tony nearly had a heart attack three times on the way to Avengers Tower.

The first was when Daredevil had convulsed so hard in his arms that Tony had nearly dropped him from the suddenness of the motion. He couldn't see the man's face fully with the mask on, but when Daredevil made no sound Tony knew he was still unconscious. The poison was still making quick work, taking control of Daredevil's body.

The second time was when F.R.I.D.A.Y. chimed in his ear, informing him that Daredevil's heart rate was dangerously slow. That medical attention was required immediately. "I know that!" Tony yelled, willing his boot propellers to go faster as the shining red A loomed closer. He shot through the sky like a missile, scaring nearby pigeons off their perch, as he flew by. He was fast approaching the landing pad. His feet hit the floor and he was taking off when the third time he nearly had a heart attack sounded off.

"Boss, Daredevil's heart stopped."

Tony didn't even think as he lowered the man to the ground, not even needing to tell F.R.I.D.A.Y to contact the doctors he kept on staff. He ripped the man's mask off, secret identity be damned, and began performing CPR.

He pumped Daredevil's chest in sync, remembering to do so in tune with _Stayin' Alive_ , and he didn't even pause as he tiled Daredevil's head back, pinching the bridge of his nose, and blowing two rescue breaths into his mouth.

"C'mon... c'mon," Tony muttered, huffing as he continued the chest compressions. "Don't you fucking die, not like this." He finished the second set of chest compressions and went for the rescue breaths again. He came back up and resumed his rhythm. "F.R.I.D.A.Y where the fuck are the doctors?" Tony yelled, panic taking hold as he looked into the slack face of a man no older than thirty five. Daredevil's hair was curled with blood. His cheeks were angular and his chin had some stubble to it, no doubt he hadn't bothered to shave in the past week during their search for Peter. He was much younger than Tony thought he would be, and the idea of this man in his prime dying now made Tony bite his lip, hard enough to draw blood.

"They're almost here boss, keep going," F.R.I.D.A.Y said and even the AI sounded nervous. 

Tony blew another set of rescue breaths into Daredevil's mouth, and went back to chest compressions, pushing hard enough that he felt the crack of ribs beneath his palm. He didn't stop though, knowing a broken pair of ribs was preferable to well... death.

"Please don't die," Tony was muttering in between each push. "This can't be it."

He finished his fourth round of rescue breaths when the doctors came skidding onto the landing pad, two of them wheeling in a crash cart. Tony didn't need to be told to move aside as the doctors cut open Daredevil's shirt and placed the defibrillator pads on his chest. Another doctor pushed the paddles onto Daredevil's chest, giving out a customary clear as the man was shocked. Daredevil's body lifted at the electricity and another doctor resumed the chest compressions once it settled. A third placed a BVM over Daredevil's mouth, pumping oxygen into the man's lungs.

Tony watched in slow motion, couldn't take his eyes off of Daredevil's unmoving face as the doctors worked on him. Could feel ice running through his veins as he thought it was too late. The poison had been too fast and Tony too slow.

That he was going to watch a man he barely knew, a man he competed with for a teenager's attention... die. And it all seemed rather silly to him now, the way they had been with one another.

"I've got a pulse."

Tony couldn't help the relieved laugh that fell from his lips, both at the statement and the realization that his competition with Daredevil was so incredibly stupid, and had been for the past year. How so self-involved Tony had been that he couldn't see Daredevil's true character.

But now it was laid out for all to see as the doctors heaved his body onto a gurney, beckoning Tony forward. The doctors asked him the details of the attack and Tony informed them of everything F.R.I.D.A.Y's scan told him, his eyes fixed on the cut on Daredevil's cheek, now looking green in the fluorescent light. He had F.R.I.D.A.Y send her findings down to the lab so the doctors had better access to it, and allowed them to wheel Daredevil away to the surgery room, hoping they could combat whatever poison Scorpion had infected him with.

He stood in the hallway, long after the doctors left, looking at the endless row of doors, feeling smaller than he had felt in a long time.

His face mask fell away as F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke to him.

"Boss, the team is back. Ms. Romanoff is injured."

Tony whirled, flying down the hallway to Bruce's lab, knowing he would be looking over Nat there. He skidded down the hall, sliding in front of Bruce's lab and threw the door open to his team.

They all stood there, except Bucky and Sam, as Bruce tended to Natasha's wounds. She had three long gashes tearing through her side and her wrist looked limp, possibly broken as she sat emotionless in the chair.

"Tony," Steve breathed at his entrance, looking drained and his dark bags under his eyes stood out in even more contrast on his pale face. "Did you find him?"

Tony knew Steve was talking about Daredevil, not Peter, but his heart dropped at the question. Hazel eyes flashed through his mind before he focused and answered, "I did... he's... he's in bad shape. Scorpion's poison."

Nat's eyes narrowed as she sucked in a breath. Bruce was cleaning the wound now and he could tell how much pain she was in. She looked to Tony pointedly, the question clear without even being spoken.

"He's alive... barely." Tony winced. "He's in the surgical suite. He's got a pulse but he flat lined earlier... I don't know how much longer he can hold on."

Natasha's eyes shone and she directed her attention to Bruce, "Go help him. You studied Scorpion's poison, you're his best bet at survival."

Bruce shook his head, emotion clear on his face. He was concerned for Natasha, more than Daredevil. "I need to fix you up, you're in bad shape too-"

"-I'm not on death's door," She said, curt. "I will live... he may not."

Bruce looked ready to argue but Clint stepped in, "I'll have one of the doctors come take care of her. I won't let anything happen to her."

A green tint shone on Bruce's neck as he left without a word and Tony could feel the anger the man palpitated. He would be worried under different circumstances but he knew Bruce could hold it together, that deep down he cared just as much about Daredevil as he did Nat. He would help the man, no matter what.

Clint was calling down to the medical floor as Natasha leaned her head back in the chair, exhaustion clear on her features. 

"What happened at the warehouse, Natasha?" Steve asked, pulling up his own chair to sit in. He wiped at his face, tired, but his eyes were alert and serious as he looked at his fellow Avenger.

"Daredevil and I were attacked by Vulture when we re-entered the warehouse. Vulture managed to grab me by the foot and lifted me into the air. I last saw Scorpion entering the scene with Daredevil before I was taken away." She recanted the story, tone even and expression sober.

"Vulture attempted to drop me but I managed to attach a wire to him, we fought for a while in the air before he swiped at me with his wings," She looked down to her lacerations, not even flinching at the site. "I managed to stun him and escaped, I should've focused on detaining him but I was... concerned for Daredevil. I thought finding him should be the priority." She said, some doubt creeping in at her re-telling. She wasn't sure if she made the right decision to let Vulture go and by the way she gripped her limp wrist tight in her hand, it told Tony she didn't think she made the right choice after all.

Vulture escaped, but because of Natasha getting away from Vulture she was able to move out of the jamming signal's range and contact the team. If she hadn't done that Tony would've never found Daredevil. The man would be dead in the streets of Manhattan.

Natasha may think her decision to leave was weak but Tony thought it was anything but. She didn't know it yet but her choice possibly saved Daredevil's life.

"Why did you two return to the warehouse? You hadn't reported any initial suspicious activity when you first left," Steve asked.

"Daredevil told me he smelled something-"

"Smelled something?" Clint interjected, scrunching up his face. "Like gas?"

Natasha shook her head, "He said it smelt like as if someone hadn't showered in a long time, I don't quite understand it myself, I didn't smell anything like that."

"So he's got like some kind of enhanced sense of smell?" Clint asked, looking mildly disgusted at the suggestion.

"I didn't ask him," Natasha smiled coyly, teasing Clint. "But we started talking about if any drifters would stay there and how the place seemed too spotless if that was the smell he was picking up on."

"So he wanted to go back?" Tony questioned, starting to put the pieces together. Natasha nodded, "Yes and he seemed certain. I don't know Daredevil well but I can tell he's like Peter... he acts on instinct." Natasha's smile fell at the mention of Peter and the rest of the team shifted uncomfortably. The failure of the mission not lost on them.

"I trusted his instincts and they were right." Natasha finished. 

The team was thoughtful and Steve was the first to break the silence, sadness settling in his tone, "Was there any sign of Peter? Do you think he was there?"

Nat looked Steve in the eyes, facing the question head on, although she wished her answer were different. "I didn't see any sign of Peter but I know he was there at some point. I don't think the Sinister Six would have let him out of their sight, I just don't know if he was moved before that night."

"If he were moved, why would the rest of the Sinister Six hang back? What could they gain from that?" Tony asked, stomach clenching. 

"To throw us off their trail," Steve supplied. "Make us think we were close to him."

"No... they wouldn't risk losing their numbers. That's the one advantage they have." Tony murmured, thinking aloud. "They couldn't risk one of them getting caught by us... they wouldn't split up unless they had to."

Clint frowned, eyes somber. "So what are you saying Tony? Peter was there and we missed him?"

Tony didn't answer, feeling the earth beneath his feet shifting, shaking him to the very core. 

Peter had been there, and Tony had flown off to chase after Electro. Peter had been within arms reach and Tony had been tricked into thinking otherwise.

Steve's assured hand came to rest on Tony's shoulder, his own expression mirroring the way Tony felt but his words held weight to them, "If Peter was there I'm sure Daredevil saw. He'll have more answers for us."

"That's if he lives," Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck. "We can't count on Daredevil filling in the gaps for us."

Clint moved towards the door and Nat's eyes snapped to him. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to call S.H.I.E.L.D and have them do a sweep of the warehouse and that whole area. Someone _must've_ seen something, left something... I don't fucking know. There's no way there's no evidence left behind."

And as if Clint's words brought a curse down upon them Steve's comms went off. 

"Bucky, what did you find?"

Steve's eyes widened in shock and his body tensed completely. He looked sick as he said, "The warehouse is on fire. Someone set off an explosion."

The earth shifted even more under Tony's feet and he caught the edge of Steve's chair to steady himself. 

"Is it gone?" Clint asked, teeth bared. Steve relayed the question to Bucky on the other line and answered a moment later, "Mostly, the fire department is putting out the rest but there won't be much to go through once the fire is out."

" _Fuck!_ "Clint shouted, hands balling into fists. He looked as if he were ready to strike the wall, but he held them by his side, trembling with rage.

Nat's eyes steeled as she looked at her friend. "Call Fury, still have them do a sweep. They might be able to find something."

Clint collected himself, giving her a knowing look, and left the room. The sound of his footsteps retreated down the hall, leaving the crestfallen heroes alone.

"I'll have Bucky and Sam continue to search the city, they might be able to pick up on the trail from where you found Daredevil, Tony." Steve said, looking more weary than Tony had ever seen him before. Even more so than Berlin.

Tony just nodded, not trusting his voice, and was glad nothing needed to be further added as one of the doctors walked in. 

"I'd like to assist you with your injuries Ms. Romanoff," The doctor said, walking into the room with a medical bag at her side.

"Thank you." Natasha looked to Tony and Steve. "I'll rejoin once I'm patched up."

"Take your time, Nat." Steve smiled kindly and he grabbed Tony's shoulder as he took the man from Bruce's lab. 

Tony let Steve guide him to the kitchen and Tony sat at the island as Steve poured them both a glass of whiskey. 

"I've never seen you drink whiskey, Rodgers." Tony said, stunned. Steve never drank, or very very rarely drank. It was something he realized didn't do anything to him because of the serum. He could never get drunk, the man couldn't even get buzzed, so it seemed rather strange to drink just for the sake of it. Tony only ever saw Steve drink politely at cocktail parties where he was expected to do so, and even then the man preferred beer over hard liquor.

"Bucky and I used to sometimes... before the war. Before _this_." He waved at himself, chuckling slightly. "It was one way I could show I was man enough, you know? If I could hold my booze it didn't matter that I was some scrawny kid who couldn't fight. If I could outdrink guys ten times my size then I was manlier than them."

"Well, could you?" Tony asked, taking the glass from Steve.

"Definitely not, I weighed like 90 pounds, Tony. I couldn't even finish one glass without blacking out."

Tony snorted as he and Steve laughed together. It wasn't particular loud or boisterous, but it was genuine, and it filled the kitchen with a light heartedness the walls of Avengers Tower hadn't seen in a long time. He couldn't remember the last time he laughed, or Steve did. Or honestly any of the Avengers did. 

Not since Peter had been taken he supposed.

When the kid was around the air felt lighter, the lights brighter, and everyone's moods were better. Peter had such an energy to him that it was hard to feel anything but happiness when he was around. It was easy to laugh when he was there. Stories were shared openly and meals had together were always loud and uproarious. 

It was truly the family Tony never thought he deserved. 

And now the laughter was gone and the rooms felt darker. And everything felt still.

Tony wasn't an idle man, that's why he enjoyed working with his hands so much, so to have time feel almost frozen in Avengers Tower was more unnerving than anything else. 

"Daredevil will live." Steve said, taking his own sip and grimacing at the taste. 

"I hope so. Peter will never forgive me if he doesn't," Tony laughed darkly, running his hands through his greasy hair. 

Steve didn't try to make Tony feel better about his guilt towards the devil of Hell's Kitchen. He knew Tony better at this point than to try and convince him it wasn't his fault. Knew Tony just needed to wallow in self-pity for a day before he pulled himself out of it.

"Did you take off his mask?" Steve asked and Tony was surprised at the question. "I did... I had to give him CPR."

"Will he be mad?" Steve asked, his tone unreadable. 

"Maybe more mad that I kissed him than anything else," Tony quipped and Steve laughed low at that, polishing off his drink. 

Steve looked out the the skyline of Manhattan, beautiful in its blinking lights. "Are you going to identify him? I know you've been wanting to for a while."

Tony paused, wondering why Steve was bringing this up. Why Steve was drinking with him, but for once Tony didn't want to ruin a nice moment between himself and Rodgers. Their relationship had taken a lot of work, to even be able to trust one another again. To work effectively together. To welcome Steve into his home with Bucky by his side had been one of Tony's greatest struggles.

To move on from the past and look forward to the future.

Now, Steve was someone Tony would gladly give his life for, and he know Captain America felt the same about him. 

It didn't mean though that their relationship was perfect. Far from it. They still argued, sometimes about petty things, and other times so heated that Tony wondered why Steve stayed. But just as the Avengers had become a part of Tony's world, so too had they become a part of Steve's. He couldn't leave any more than Tony could.

"I won't look him up if that's what you're wondering," Tony answered, finishing his own drink. "Don't get me wrong, I'm dying to know who he is and I'm sure F.R.I.D.A.Y has already done the dirty work for me but I won't ask her about it."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "Why not? He'll probably assume you did anyways."

"Yeah, he probably will, but he's a part of the team now... at least temporarily. It'd be pretty shitty to go snooping through his diary after all of this."

Steve smiled and didn't say any more, just looked out to Manhattan, staring pensively.

"We're going to find him, Tony." Steve said quietly, not looking at him, still staring straight ahead. "I know we will."

Tony looked forward himself, knowing Steve was right. They would find Peter, there was nothing in this world that could stop him.

He just didn't know how long it would take, and that was the real issue at hand.

He didn't know how Peter would be when they found him. And the thought of that was what kept him up at night, what kept him from keeping idle.

If he stayed still too long he felt as if time would decay around him, and steal Peter away.

And he didn't know how he could rescue Peter from time itself. Not even Steve could be sure they could find him then.

But he said none of this aloud as he looked over the lit up skyline of New York with his friend, both quietly contemplating what the days ahead would look like.

What the days ahead meant for themselves and for Spiderman.

\---------------------------

Peter awoke slow, blinking away the morning light as it washed over him in a cool yellow haze. His head ached, and the dull throb of the lingering headache remained. He buried his head back into the pillow, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to make the pain subside. 

The throbbing lifted slightly but still remained a firm presence, begging Peter to open his eyes. He reluctantly did so, his body feeling heavy and his mind the same. He looked around the room he was in and was stunned at the extravagance of it all.

He was in a large room, wrapped in silk sheets, facing an enormous marble accent wall. There was a desk in the corner, edged in gold and a large dresser sitting besides it. He slowly removed the sheets and stood on the floor, feeling only a little shaky doing so. He touched the marble in shock, he didn't even see marble at Avengers Tower. He remembered Mr. Stark calling it tacky at some point, but seeing an entire wall of it Peter had to disagree. It felt immaculate. 

There were three doors in the room, the first was a massive walk in closet that didn't actually contain any clothes, and led no where once inside. The second door led to a bathroom, entirely laid in marble. It had the largest shower and tub Peter had ever seen in his life and a fresh set of towels sat on top of the gold countertops. There was another linen closet inside that only contained an extra set of sheets and some spare pillows for the bed. 

Peter was pretty sure the bathroom was bigger than his entire room at May's apartment. He walked back into the bedroom and noticed one of the walls was entirely windows, looking out to New York. He walked over to it, stunned and mesmerized at the sight before him. 

The sight in this room was comparable to Avengers Tower's view. Buildings spread across him like they were miniatures and he could see Central Park sprawling beneath him, its trees finally turning into the magnificent reds, browns, oranges, and yellows New York was known for in the fall. He looked down trying to see if he could spot any people but they simply looked like ants running through the streets. Looking down was dizzying at this height and Peter turned his attention forward to stop himself from feeling faint.

He could've stayed there for hours just looking at the city, the first real sight he's had in weeks, but he could hear voices on the other side of the door and he needed to gather his bearings, and figure out where he was.

He approached the third door which led to a hallway lined with even more doors. Out there, though, the voices were clearer and Peter headed in their direction, feeling nervous at what he would find.

He came to the end of the hallway and into a massive living room, kitchen combo. The Sinister Six were spread out amongst the couches and chairs, chatting amongst themselves and Peter's heart jumped in his throat at the sight. 

Martin Li was standing in the kitchen and noticed him. "Peter, you're awake." He walked forward and Peter felt confused at the kindness and concern shining in Martin's eyes. His hand came up and brushed Peter's hair aside to feel his forehead. "Hmm you still feel a little warm." Martin mused, removing the hand and setting it on Peter's shoulder. "How do you feel?"

"I..." Peter didn't know where to start, the scene before him confusing him further, and the dull throbbing in his head was growing with each second. 

"W-where am I?" Peter asked, feeling tense.

Martin was about to answer when another hand clapped on Peter's back nearly knocking him over. He turned around, almost colliding with Mysterio's dome. "You're in my apartment!" Mysterio clasped his hands together. "I offered you guys a place to stay since I felt bad."

Peter unconsciously moved behind Mr. Negative, his Spidey Sense flaring uncomfortably at Mysterio's presence. The man didn't seem bothered though by the movement and babbled on, "Don't worry kiddo, you're a guest here! And I treat my guests well." He pulled a rose from his sleeve and handed it to Peter. He looked at it hesitantly, but his Spidey Sense didn't warn him of anything wrong with the rose. He tentatively reached out to grab it and Mysterio positively beamed at Peter for taking his flower.

"Yes, Mysterio was kind enough to let us stay here for now." Martin Li said, smiling at Peter but it didn't quite reach his eyes this time. 

"You're welcome to stay as long as you want, as you can see I have plenty of room!" Mysterio laughed. 

"Ah Peter, you're awake," Octavius approached, cutting off Mysterio's laughter, and actively glaring at the man. He turned his attention away from Mysterio though and settled in back on Peter. "How are you feeling?"

Peter held the rose, mind running a mile a minute, trying to piece together what brought him here, and to be honest he wasn't sure how he was feeling. He didn't answer though as Martin spoke up instead, "He's a bit warm still."

Otto bent down to Peter's eyes level, placing his hand where Martin's had been earlier on his forehead. "Hmm, yes still warm."

"Do I have a fever?" Peter asked quiet, eyes closing contently at the feeling of the doctors hand on his head.

"Yes, but it's going down. You should be fine soon. More rest would do you good though." Octavius said, removing his hand and Peter opened his eyes at the loss of warmth. 

"Have the kid come join us!" Electro shouted from the living room, "We're about to watch a movie."

"I-is it okay if I shower?" Peter asked, realizing how disgusting he felt as he stood amongst the lavishness of Mysterio's apartment. He couldn't remember the last time he had bathed.

"Of course," Doc Ock smiled, but it fell as he thought, "I don't know if I have a change of clothes for you though."

"Don't worry Doc! I got some for the kid!" Mysterio reached forward and ruffled Peter's hair, although the action was a bit too harsh and Peter winced at it. "He can borrow some of my clothes."

"They'll be too big," Martin frowned.

"Well better than being naked!" Mysterio guffawed, grabbing Peter by the shoulder and leading him back to the bedroom he woke up in. He looked back to Octavius and Martin, who looked unhappy with Mysterio leading Peter away, but they didn't stop the man as he took Peter back down the hall.

They entered the bedroom again and Mysterio let him go as he walked into the bathroom, Peter hesitantly followed.

"You got some soap, shampoo, conditioner, extra towels, all that nice stuff right down here." Mysterio was bending down in front of the sink, rifling through the cabinets below it. "There's no trick to the shower handle, just turn the handle left for hot, right for cold. Easy peasy." Mysterio snapped his fingers and chuckled, heading back into the bedroom.

"I'll put some clothes for you on the bed, I'll give you a few things so you have some options." Mysterio turned to him and Peter felt absolutely dumbfounded at the situation he was in.

"T-thank you." He twisted the flower awkwardly in his grasp, unsure of what else to say or what he was feeling. 

Everything was confusing and the actions of these men made it even more confusing. He was trying to remember exactly what happened before he woke up here but it all felt blurry and far away, like an unfocused shot on his camera. 

"No problemo, Spidey. Wait what did they call you, Peter? Can I call you Petey?" Mysterio asked, leaning in close and Peter could see his own distorted reflection in Mysterio's dome, looking embarrassed and flushed.

"Uhh sure." Peter said, not sure if he should tell the villain no. Mysterio had always been one of the tougher villains to fight, mood unpredictable and attacks too. Making the man mad was not advisable and even in his current state that thought still stuck with him.

"Alright, Petey it is!" Mysterio laughed again, and withdrew another rose from his sleeve, handing it to Peter. He took it again, and Mysterio lit up at the acceptance once more. "Ya know I've always liked ya Spidey, it's gonna be fun having you around."

With that said Mysterio walked out of the room, closing the door behind him and Peter stood there, flabbergasted at the entire situation. 

He didn't allow himself to think on it too hard though, knowing Mysterio would be back any minute with the clothes. He returned to the bathroom, shut the door, and turned the shower on. The hot water hitting his skin made him sigh in relief and he sank to the shower floor, just sitting there for a while and let the heat soak into his fatigued muscles.

He sat there, unthinking and unfeeling, and it was the best Peter had felt in weeks.

He allowed himself this one mercy as he knew his memories would return sooner rather than later, and he was sure they were not going to be pleasant.

For once, he allowed time to stand still as he sat in the shower, letting the water wash him clean and take his troubled thoughts too.

Allowed them to be washed down the drain and allowed himself just a moment of peace.

To simply float and not descend. He felt like he deserved that at the very least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts ^^


	16. Silver Fountains

_"No more be grieved at that which thou hast done: Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud; Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud"_ \- Shakespeare, Sonnet 35

Peter got out of the shower, feeling almost reborn. The shower floor was coated in dirt and grime and Peter shuttered to think what he looked like before he bathed. He swiped his hand across the foggy mirror, staring at his reflection. 

His skin was sallow and awfully pale, making his hazel eyes stand out more prominently on his face. The only redness to his face was his flushed cheeks, which he supposed was due to the fever. Despite having slept the majority of the time he spent in the room he still had dark bags under his eyes that made him look haunted, which wasn't far from how he felt. He rubbed at his hair and face with the towel, the longer locks already curling again against the cotton. He looked thinner in his body too but the lean muscles he gained from years of being Spiderman were still there, just not as prominent as they once appeared.

He hardly recognized himself and he absentmindedly wondered if Aunt May would recognize him.

The thought of it caught in his throat and he bit down on his hand to stifle a cry. He didn't want to think about Aunt May and how she was taking his disappearance. He didn't want to be overwhelmed with emotion right now. He was so tired of constantly feeling like he was on the verge of a breakdown, constantly on the edge of losing it entirely.

His mind flashed to the warm smiles of Martin Li and Doctor Octavius, even Mysterio handing him a rose and beaming at him. The behaviors were odd but Peter found comfort in them. Found some kind of peace, and he latched onto it selfishly. Not wanting to be dragged back down to the darkness.

He wasn't sure if he could handle it anymore.

He finished drying off and went back into the bedroom, Mysterio had stayed true to his word and placed a variety of clothes for Peter to choose from, and just like Martin had said they were definitely too big for Peter. He found a pair of sweats and the smallest t-shirt amongst the bunch that was still oversized on his slender frame but not as bad as the others would be.

It was strange for him to think of Mysterio wearing normal clothes. He had only ever seen the man in his costume and dome, he didn't even know what the man's face looked like. He had turned Mysterio over to the police one time before, but before the cops could remove his dome for the mugshots Mysterio had escaped with a distraction and never officially made it onto any records with his real identity. Only a file with his villain name existed. Nobody knew who Mysterio was for sure, and Peter idly wondered if the Sinister Six knew who he was. What he looked like.

They seemed to trust him for some reason, enough to hide Peter away in his apartment. 

Mysterio had tried to kill Peter before, as Spiderman, but even then it seemed almost like a game to him. Like he didn't seriously think Peter could die from his attacks. He was unsure if the man was stable, mentally, but he always had a feeling that Mysterio liked fighting Spiderman. That he enjoyed their battles, and didn't entirely want them to stop, even if it would benefit him to have Spiderman out of the picture. He was a confusing figure in Peter's life, always teetering on the edge of being a real threat and putting on a bad comedy show.

Peter tied the sweatpants as tight as they would go, and tried to roll up the pants but they slipped down past his feet, dragging on the floor. The large t-shirt was, as expected, overwhelming on his small figure, but he managed to keep it covering both of his shoulders at least. He realized he probably looked ridiculous but it was still better than getting into his old clothes again, caked with sweat and grime from weeks of wearing it.

He felt much better after showering, but his headache still persisted and his limbs felt heavy. He could feel the heat now creeping up the nape of his neck and settling in his cheeks. He wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep off the ache, but his stomach was growling painfully. He really needed to eat.

He made his way back down the hall to the bustling sounds of the Sinister Six and Mysterio moving about the kitchen and living room. Rhino was sitting at the kitchen counter, talking quietly with Martin Li who stood behind it, drinking a cup of tea. Scorpion was sprawled out on one of the couches, his bad leg propped up on pillows and he was fast asleep, snoring so loud that Electro was grinding his teeth in annoyance. He turned up the volume of the TV, trying to drown out Mac's incessant snoring, glaring angrily at his injured comrade. Vulture was listening to Mysterio babble on about something and was looking more annoyed with each second that passed as the man was talking animatedly, drawing out colored scarves, cards, and flowers from his sleeves at random points in his story. He handed them to Vulture but the man never took any of them and Mysterio let each item fall to the floor instead, never missing a beat in his tale. Peter looked around but Doctor Octopus was nowhere to be found, he was unsure of where the man had gone but his train of thought was interrupted when Martin called him forward.

"Peter, come eat. I made some soup for you." He made his way slowly into the kitchen, sitting next to Rhino and the man smiled at him softly as Peter took his seat. 

Martin pushed forward a hot bowl of soup for Peter and moved back to the stove to grab the tea kettle, pouring Peter a cup. He slid the cup to Peter as well, frowning at his clothes. "I told him they'd be too big for you."

Peter didn't comment as he started to eat, his stomach twisting slightly at the smell. Despite being hungry he knew he couldn't eat much. His stomach would have to adjust to the sudden intake of food after going for a while without. 

Rhino tugged at Peter's sleeve, feeling how loose the clothing was and said, "Yes, too big."

"I can't help that I'm just too big and muscular!" Mysterio called over, bouncing towards the kitchen, much to the relief of Vulture who slunk away to join Electro in the living room. Happy to no longer be talking with the eccentric villain. "Petey will just have to bulk up if wants to fit in my clothes," Mysterio laughed, standing next to Martin behind the counter.

"Petey?" Martin asked, frowning even more. 

"That's Spidey's nickname! He said I could call him that." Mysterio almost seemed to wink at Peter but the teenager said nothing, taking a long sip of his tea. It was warm and soothing as he drank it. Peter had never been much of a tea drinker, he recently had been introduced to coffee through Michelle, although Steve was rather annoyed every time he poured himself a cup in Avengers Tower, telling him he was too young to be drinking coffee. He didn't particularly like coffee either, but the caffeine was needed after long patrol nights, so he had taken up the habit. But the tea Martin made him was calming, and complimented the soup well in a strange way. He supposed the man made both for him because of his fever, hoping the soup and tea would help break it.

"He said it was okay?" Martin didn't look convinced, looking to Peter for confirmation and he just nodded slightly in response. 

Mysterio ruffled Peter's hair, laughing. "See! Petey said it's fine, he's a good sport about stuff like this." 

Peter didn't comment as Martin and Mysterio fell into conversation about him. He was relishing in his soup and tea, feeling the warmth spread through his body and making him feel calmer and more collected. Rhino's presence at his side was strangely soothing and kept Peter at ease even as the bickering around him was hurting his head.

"Will you guys shut up over there? I'm trying to watch tv for christs sake!" Electro snapped, electricity crackling through his hair. Mysterio went to make a comment but Martin interrupted him, "Yes, I think it's best we keep quiet, Mac is trying to sleep after all."

"Who cares about him!" Electro snarled, aggravated. "He can sleep through anything, especially with the amount of painkillers he's on. It's me you should be worrying about!" Electro demonstrated how sound asleep Scorpion was by throwing a pillow at the man. It smacked him in the face, falling to the floor quietly, and Mac's snoring didn't subside for one second. "See! He's fine... me on the other hand, I just wanna hear the tv and I can't with you guys yapping away about whatever bullshit you're on about!"

"We're having a very important conversation about nicknames thank you very much," Mysterio huffed, puffing his chest out. Electro waved a hand at him, "Yeah yeah, whatever. Kid come over here, let's watch a movie together."

Peter looked to Electro beckoning him over. He finished the last bit of his soup and went to wash the dishes first but Martin shooed him away. "I can take care of this, go join Maxwell on the couch."

Peter got up, ignoring his own thoughts about how strange the normalcy of it all was, and went to sit on the couch with Electro. He chose the end of it, as far away from Electro as he could be, sitting with his knees drawn to his chest. Rhino had decided to join them sitting in the very middle and ignored Max's grumbling at the large addition to the space.

"Ohh what movie are we gonna watch?" Mysterio squealed, curling up in a chair close to Scorpion. 

Electro was still grumbling but said, "Kid, what do you wanna watch?"

Peter just shrugged, not feeling up to talking with the men. He didn't even necessarily wanna be in the same room as them at the moment, but the companionship was welcome, especially after being alone for so long. Rhino's hand came down gently on Peter's head and he closed his eyes in contentment. "Little spider is tired," Rhino said. Rhino pulled Peter's head towards him until Peter was resting against the man's body. He didn't try to fight it, the touch feeling nice against his hot skin, and he allowed himself to settle on the couch, leaning against Aleksei. He knew deep down he shouldn't allow this, shouldn't be feeling happy with the physical contact, but he was too tired to fight against it. And he wasn't sure he wanted to if he was being honest with himself. It felt nice to be taken care of, to be treated well. It seemed counterintuitive to push it away.

"Alright, I'll just put something on then." Electro said, flipping the channel till he was satisfied with what was on. "Die Hard! A classic, have you seen it before kid?"

"I don't think so," Peter mumbled, opening his eyes slightly to look at the screen. He knew the movie but he wasn't sure he actually ever watched it before. He mainly knew about it from watching Brooklyn Nine Nine, remembering how much Jake Peralta loved the film.

"What? You've never seen it before! Well we definitely have to watch it now." Electro decided, ignoring Mysterio whining that he didn't wanna watch Die Hard, he wanted to watch a comedy. Electro and Mysterio bickered as Martin came over with a blanket in his hand, placing it over Peter without a word. He smiled at the teenager before taking his leave and heading off down the hall. 

"It's okay to sleep little Spider," Rhino assured, hand combing through Peter's hair softly. He didn't answer, he was tired but he wanted to watch the movie. He was happy to be provided some form of entertainment and he really did want to pay attention.

He managed to keep his eyes open for the first half of the film, mostly thanks to Mysterio's interjections and Electro telling him to be quiet, but soon enough he found his eyes closing and he was dozing, not quite asleep but not entirely awake either.

Peter wasn't sure how much time had passed, but he was being pulled back up to consciousness at the sounds of arguing and he blinked blearily at the screen as the channel changed.

_"We've obtained cell phone footage of Ironman flying through the skies of Manhattan last night holding who appears to be Daredevil, reports are unclear as to why Tony Stark was carrying the man but we can only assume he was taking Daredevil bac-"_

The channel changed, Electro held the remote forward as Mysterio stood besides him, both breathing hard. The two had just been wrestling for the remote and had accidentally changed the channel to the local news. Everyone in the room was staring at Peter, save Scorpion who still remained fast asleep on the other couch, and the air was thick with tension.

Peter stared at the TV, his mind slow to process what the news anchor had said, trying to replay the video in his head. He felt hot and uncomfortable under the blanket but he didn't dare move, feeling as though the moment he did he'd be whisked away again. Back to the dark. Back to the nothingness.

He had to focus.

"Little spider," Rhino said next to him and Peter realized his breathing was coming out ragged. That his body was responding before his mind did. Even though his body felt hot, it simultaneously felt cold as if he had just been dunked in an ice bath. His heart beat in his chest, hammering in his ears, ringing and ringing. He felt as if he were frozen, his body unable to do anything.

He replayed the footage in his head, watching as Ironman flew at a speed Peter had never seen before. A red figure clutched in his arms, lifeless and limp.

Did Mr. Stark save Daredevil? Or was he just taking his body home?

"Please turn it back," Peter said, voice hoarse and eyes wide as he turned his attention back to Electro. The man looked guilty and uncomfortable but he didn't move to change the channel again. "I uh... I don't think that's a good idea, kid."

"P-please, I need to know," Peter begged, lip slightly trembling.

"Peter..." Vulture started but seemed unsure of what to say, looking just as uncomfortable as the rest of the men in the room. For once the Sinister Six couldn't find the words to say. 

"I just need to know if he's- if he's-" Peter choked on his words, the memories of yesterday coming back like a flood breaking through a dam. He could see Daredevil standing in the frame of the truck door, silhouetted in silver, bleeding and wounded. Could see Doc Ock's arm strangling him, lifting him into the sky. Could feel the panic radiating off of him as Peter approached Octavius begging him not to kill Daredevil. Could hear his words crying out for Peter to run. Could hear the way his heart was breaking as Peter left him to die all alone.

Left him to die. 

Left him to die.

Left him to die.

...Did he die?

Peter didn't know when he stood or when he walked over to Electro, who was looking at Peter as if he were a ghost. Rhino's hand was wrapped around Peter's arm, but it seemed more like to steady him than hold him back.

"I need to know if he's a-alive," Peter stuttered, breathing hard and he could feel the tears trailing down his cheeks, adding some coolness to his face. "Please... please," He pleaded, staring at Electro.

Electro's eyes softened further and his thumb moved on the remote, about to change the channel back when a voice stopped him.

"They don't know anything about Daredevil's status."

Peter looked to Octavius, standing at the end of the hallway with Martin next to him. He was, as always, composed in his demeanor, but he did have the grace to at least look at Peter with some sympathy. "They are only reporting on the video a citizen uploaded to social media. They know nothing else."

The way Otto talked about it sat wrong with Peter, like he was withholding some kind of information from him. Like he somehow knew more than the reporters did.

"Do you know what happened?" Peter asked, feeling slightly breathless at confronting Doc Ock. But he needed to know. He needed to know if Tony saved Matt.

Octavius's shoulders tensed as he clasped his hands tighter behind his back and it told Peter more than his words did, "I don't know what happened to Daredevil. I'm sorry Peter."

"I can tell ya Petey!" Mysterio interjected, either once again unaware of the tone of the room or simply electing to not care. Octavius stepped forward, anger lacing his steps. "Mysterio-"

But he was cut off as Mysterio turned to Peter. "Daredevil is alive! For now anyways, who knows in a couple of hours, but he ain't dead yet."

"Are you sure?" Peter asked, voice small and weak as if scared Mysterio would recant his statement. But the man just nodded fervently and said, "I'm sure. A man like me knows things like this!" He laughed and Octavius strutted forward, taking Peter's other arm and giving a look to Aleksei. Rhino seemed reluctant to let Peter go but as Otto's tension grew, he released Peter's arm and Doc Ock dragged Peter from the room. He didn't have time to protest as Octavius took him to his bedroom and shut the door behind them, leaving the two standing with the sunset at their backs. Manhattan was awash with the orange glaze of the setting sun, sitting in the trees of Central Park like candles lit in windowsills. Everything was crisp and hazy at once, combining the laziness of summer with the bitterness of winter. It all sat beautiful in its setting, but Peter didn't even see it as he kept his eyes on Octavius who gazed at Peter sternly.

"You are not to ask about Daredevil again," He said with a finality that sent a chill up Peter's spine.

"Why?" Peter asked, no fight in his tone. Just a genuine question. "I-I just want to know-"

Octavius put a hand up silencing the teenager. "It is not good for you to worry about such things."

Peter opened his mouth to protest but Otto continued, walking closer and Peter fell backwards on the bed at the sudden movement. "You have been sick because of your inability to forget the past." Doc Ock was in front of Peter now, his hand coming up to Peter's forehead and goosebumps rose on his arms at the touch. It didn't feel comforting in the moment, it made Peter's stomach churn. "Your fever is getting worse and it's because of this stress you put yourself through. Forget about Daredevil, he is no longer your concern."

Peter didn't realize it until Octavius said it but he did feel warmer and weaker like he did when he had the flu. But it didn't matter, if being sick was some kind of side effect about feeling guilty he left his mentor bleeding to death with poison running through his veins, well he thought he deserved worse honestly.

"I can't forget!" Peter shouted, pushing Otto's hand away from his forehead, making the man frown. "I can't move on from that! I left him I-I abandoned-"

"You did no such thing," Octavius snapped. "You saved him, he's alive because of you."

"No no no," Peter muttered, a fresh sob tearing from his throat. "I could've stopped you, I-I could've done something and I didn't! I didn't do anything, why didn't I do anything-" He was talking more to himself than Octavius, finally sorting through his emotions. It was only unfortunate it was in front of Doctor Octopus.

"You did what you could," Octavius' voice was kind as he wiped at Peter's tears, trying his best to calm the boy.

"I should've done more! I-I should've saved him... I-I don't know why, that's not me! That's not who I am!" Peter cried, open and bare in front of his enemy. His head was swimming with guilt, doubt, and fear. He didn't know what to make of his actions, of the kind of person he was that would choose not to fight back. He just let it happen, let Daredevil cry for him, begging him to run. For Daredevil to not even think of himself, to still care for the coward that Peter was. It made him feel sick. 

Matt was a good man, a righteous man. Why had he even trained Peter for the past year? It was obvious that Peter was no equivalent to him. He was just a coward who abandoned his friends when they needed him the most. He was weak.

Peter couldn't save Ben. He couldn't save Matt.

What good was he if he couldn't even save the people he cherished most in this world? Why was he even Spiderm-

Peter felt a prick in his neck, eyes lifting to Octavius' as the man's hand withdrew, holding a now empty syringe. Peter didn't even have time to feel panicked as a calmness washed over him, quickly drying his tears and evening his breath. A serenity took hold of him and he felt his body relax.

"There, that's better," Octavius smiled and Peter returned it, feeling light and airy. He felt like he was floating and he couldn't quite remember why he had been upset a moment earlier. "This is something I made to help with your... emotions. How are you feeling?"

"Umm kind of weightless," Peter answered, not really knowing how to describe his current state. He just felt free in a sense. Free of negative feelings and thoughts, free of pain. He felt so content and relaxed, like he was laying on a cloud. Above the world and its problems. There was only peace. 

Doc Ock chuckled and Peter liked the sound of it, his smile widening. "Well you seem better, and more alert than last time. This is good."

Peter wasn't sure what the doctor was talking about but he didn't quite care in the moment, the doctor was running his hand through Peter's hair and he sighed at the touch. "That feels nice," He heard himself say aloud, not sure how the words slipped out. But he was glad they did as the doctor chuckled again. 

"I figured you like this. Do any of the Avengers do this with you?" 

Peter felt perplexed at the question, something in the back of his mind telling him it was odd, but it quickly fell away as the doctor pulled him close to his chest, allowing Peter to rest against it as he continued to run his hand through his hair. His arms came up of their own accord to wrap around Otto's middle, hugging the man, feeling the warmth of his chest against his cheek. 

"Sometimes," Peter replied. "Not that often though. Not like this."

"Hmm," Octavius mused and even though Peter couldn't see his face he could tell the man was smiling. "They don't seem to understand your need for physical contact. Have you told them you like this?"

"No, it would be weird to say so," Peter mumbled, feeling some slight embarrassment despite the drug in his system keeping him relaxed and submissive.

"Ah, I see. They are not as observant as us then, no?" Octavius asked, his other hand rubbing small circles into Peter's back and he melted further into the embrace. 

"... I guess not." Peter said, not having ever thought on the subject that much. "They're busy though."

"Too busy for you?" Otto pressed. 

"I... I don't know. Sometimes I think." Peter answered, confusion mixing in with the serenity, turning his cloud gray. "Everyone gets busy."

"That's true, but if they really cared they would make time, right?" Doc Ock's smile fell and a smirk took its place, unknown to Peter. 

"I... they- they do." Peter said, but he sounded unsure. He knew the Avengers had other pressing matters, like end of the world pressing matters. They didn't always have time to sit and talk with him, to watch movies with him, to brief him on everything. Peter knew all of these things didn't necessarily mean they didn't care or want to make time for him, then why was it sitting heavy in his heart each time they seemed to ignore him. Each time they were too busy for him. Logically he knew it was nothing personal, but his heart ached as he remembered each dismissal. 

"But they don't take care of you, they don't protect you." Otto's voice was laced with honey but it sat like poison in Peter's veins. Turning his thoughts dark, and his memories along with it. His cloud was now storming, upset and angry. The tranquility disrupted.

"They have, I mean they do. I... we look out for each other," Peter said, his head pounding again and the back of his neck was heating up. He didn't feel right in his own skin, like his body was not his own. He started to pull away from the doctor but Octavius held tight, not releasing his grip. Peter whimpered and Otto shushed him, slowing his hands on Peter's back and head.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to upset you. I just wanted to know how you were treated before, that's all." He said, the poison no longer tinting his words and Peter felt himself settling again. The storm was abating but his head still throbbed in pain.

"You know we want to protect you, right Peter?" Otto asked low. "That we're going to take care of you."

Peter didn't hesitate as he answered, "I know, you promised me." Octavius pulled Peter closer at that and said, "I did, and I mean what I say. You will always be safe with us. We won't let anything happen to you."

Peter's brow furrowed, a question forming that he never really gave much thought to in the past weeks, and he lifted his head to look at Octavius. "Why do you want to protect me?"

Otto looked puzzled at that, "I told you before, we didn't realize-"

"No... I mean, I understand that part." Peter removed his arms from Doc Ock's torso, and wiped at his face. "But there has to be more than that, I just... I don't understand why you're doing all of this. Risking yourself and the others for me."

The doctor looked stunned, his mouth agape, and his face perplexed, as if he had never really thought about why they were keeping Peter as well. Why they were going through all of the effort to keep someone who had been their enemy for the past two years safe from harm. 

Why Octavius cared about the boy, why any of them did. 

He looked into Peter's questioning hazel eyes and was for once in his life, at a loss for words. He was taken back to the construction site, when he had gleefully ripped off Spiderman's mask, _giddy_ at the idea of finally ending the man who had made his life a living hell for two years. Only to see the face of a teenager, caked in blood, eyes unfocused and barely conscious, and beyond anything else looking terrified of Octavius. Terrified of the man about to kill him. Octavius had said one thing before Spiderman passed out and his world seemed to collapse underneath him at the slack face of Peter Parker, and no more words came after that. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think. He was so close to accomplishing his goal, of ridding the world of Spiderman, but seeing a child under the mask had changed everything in that moment. Had made Octavius' blood run cold and his hands shook as he tossed Spiderman's mask away from him, as if it burned his fingers. And the only thing keeping him together was the rage that had carried him ever since he first put on the arms. The rage of what had been done to him, the rage of losing his company, his livelihood, his _reputation_. Losing everything to men like Stark, and now he was expected to kill a child. A child Stark had set on this path. It was like Stark was setting him up again, to further strip Otto of his decency, his conscience.

To truly make Doctor Octopus into a monster.

And that was how it started, the idea to take Spiderman away from the Avengers, away from Stark. It was to prove to the world that he wasn't a monster. That he had his morals, and to show everyone else that the Avengers did not, no matter how much they claimed to be the good guys.

But as time passed and Octavius got to know Spiderman, like the rest of the Sinister Six, it stopped being about proving to everyone else he wasn't a monster. 

It started to become about proving to himself he wasn't.

With every decision he made, he could see he was slowly stripping parts of Peter away. He remembered how talkative Spiderman was in battle, how cocky he was. How it aggravated him to no end, but now with the absence of it, it felt strange to not have it at all. It didn't feel natural.

He saw in the days Peter was bed ridden after being taken off the pain meds how he was returning to his normal self. How he joked with the Sinister Six, how he stopped looking at Otto like he was a threat and his eyes lit up when the man came to spend time with him. Genuinely intrigued in their puzzles and scientific conversations, how the sound of his laugh made Otto's heart soar. Something he wasn't sure he would hear again from the hero.

Bringing him to the courtyard in the warehouse had been a risk, he knew, but he felt it was worth it the moment Peter's eyes took it all in. How happy the boy looked to be in nature, to be in light again. They had spent hours there with Peter just laying in the grass, his eyes alight with new life. And Otto had hoped things were finally taking a turn, that Peter could learn to be happy with them.

He didn't even realize how much all of them desperately wanted that until that night. When Electro had contacted them all, frantic, that Peter wasn't in his bed. That he was gone.

When they had made their way to the courtyard, seeing the glass falling through the air, glittering like snow, and Peter taking off across the rooftop, he realized how panicked he felt. How scared he was of losing the kid. Octavius didn't scare easily, and he could remember the feeling of absolute dread seizing him, overtaking him. Only Vulture shooting up through the skylight brought him back to himself and he barked out orders to his team, to find Peter.

To bring him back no matter what.

When he had confronted him at the park, seeing the way Peter was unbending, unwilling to return had broken Octavius' heart. Had made him see red.

He didn't know it until then when Peter had bested him on the rooftop. When he scrambled to his feet and the boy was nowhere to be seen that he truly cared about Peter. Cared about him in a way that was more than just the fact he was a child. 

And he wouldn't let Stark ruin Peter, like Stark ruined him. Wouldn't let that man take a light from this world.

He would allow himself to be a monster if it meant keeping Peter safe. He didn't need to prove anything to anyone, he would steel his resolve and make it so Peter would never think of leaving them again. Even if it meant not hearing Peter's laughter again, not seeing his smile.

If it meant breaking him, then so be it.

So that's what Otto did.

Retrieving Peter from the room didn't make him feel good, didn't make his decision any easier. But he had done what he set out to do. Had done what he thought was best for them all. 

And the doubts he had fell away when he had ripped Daredevil from that truck. Rage, unlike anything he had felt in a while, taking him, and the satisfaction he felt when Peter listened to his command. When he didn't attempt to run again, didn't try to stop Octavius physically. Instead he begged, not trying to fight him, just simply asked for Octavius to have some humanity.

And Otto felt like he had some left to spare. For Peter, he always did.

He felt like with this act of kindness that the possibility of bringing the old Peter back, the Spiderman he once know, was within reach. That he could show Peter that he wasn't a monster, not truly.

He told Peter he would never lie to him, but this was something that had to be an exception. A monster was needed when fighting other monsters after all. How could he protect the kid if he didn't bare his teeth from time to time?

So as Peter sat there, looking at him in curiosity, asking him why they wanted to protect him, Doc Ock was left speechless once more. How could he put into words everything Peter brought out of him, everything that was complicated and twisted within him like the gnarled knots of a tree, forever stuck in perpetual writhing. 

How could he let Peter know the monster wasn't under his bed but right before his eyes. How many times was he going to break the kid before trying to put him back together again?

How many more times could Peter survive it?

He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but was stopped at smoke entering the room and Mysterio stepping out of it a moment later.

"Are you done torturing poor Petey yet?" Mysterio laughed, knocking on his helmet, the sound taking both Peter and Otto out of their fugue states.

Octavius's arms left the boy, his mouth curling into a snarl at Mysterio's presence. "You are not welcome in here."

"Aww don't be like that! I just came to cheer Spidey up!" Mysterio said, as he pulled a white rose from his sleeve, handing it to Peter. The teenager took it, looking slightly confused, before smiling goofily and saying, "You're weird."

Mysterio spluttered at that, "Weird?? Why would you say such a cruel thing? I'm not weird!"

Peter laughed lightly, the sound surprising Octavius, even with the drugs he wasn't sure Peter would laugh. "You are, you remind me of someone I know. He's weird too," Peter's grin widened. 

"Well he must be completely normal then cause I am definitely not weird," Mysterio huffed and Peter laughed further. "It's okay, I like weird people. They're more fun than normal people."

"You do?" Mysterio gasped. "Well... I guess I'll let you call me weird then. If Petey likes weird then I'm weird!" 

Peter just smiled, his eyes soft and his expression content. It was nice to see him look like that for once. Octavius had gotten so used to seeing the boy distressed he almost forgot what he looked like when he wasn't. It was like the sun was in the room. 

"I like the flower, thank you." He said, holding it gently between his fingers.

"You need to put it in some water or it'll die quick, I'll go get a vase for you!" Mysterio said, bounding out the bedroom door and Octavius moved to follow him, telling Peter to stay put, and closed the door behind him. He caught Mysterio by the elbow with one of his mechanical arms before he could make his way down the hallway.

He opened a door that led to an impressive library and dragged Mysterio inside, closing the door quietly behind them.

"What's up, Doc?" Mysterio asked, pacing around the room, looking at all the books, as if it wasn't his own library he was perusing. 

"You are not to go into Peter's room," He said, keeping his voice even even as if he felt anger bubbling up inside. He didn't trust Mysterio, not for a second, and the less contact between him and Peter the better.

"Hmm last time I checked, it's not Petey's room it's _mine_." Mysterio said happily, but his voice had taken on an edge, something sinister underneath. "Lest you forget Doc, this is my place that I oh so _graciously_ let you hide away in. Let you bring the possibility of the Avengers to my front door. I thought you would be grateful for the accommodations."

Otto's arms twisted, slithering around the room, up the bookshelves, creeping towards Mysterio. "I am not going to play these games with you. I will only warn you once, and if we need to move on from this place, we shall."

"Woah woah! No need to be leaving in a rush! I meant what I said about staying as long as you want. I like having you guys around, especially little Spidey." Mysterio threw his hands up in defeat. "I'm not trying to hurt Petey, scouts honor!" He stuck his pinky forward but Octavius' eyes turned to slits, hands unmoving.

"You may not try anything, but that does not speak for what you will do-"

"You mean like sedating the kid?" Otto said nothing but he could feel the ugly smile on Mysterio's face. "He seemed to be in an _awfully_ good mood though. Did you hear him laugh? He's got a nice laugh-"

"Limit your time with him," Doc Ock snapped, withdrawing his arms from the room. "I won't say it again."

Mysterio approached him, arms clasped behind his back and confidence in every step. "That's not up to me, that's up to Spidey. If the kid wants to spend time with me, well, then who am I to say no to that puppy dog face?"

Octavius snarled, but Mysterio ignored it. "I won't get in the way of your plans for him, whatever they may be, but I won't stop him from talking to me if that's what he wants." Mysterio clapped his hand on Otto's shoulder and his arm shot up to grab Mysterio's wrist. It yanked it away, holding him back, but Mysterio seemed as happy as ever. "I better get that vase before I forget!" He disappeared in a poof, leaving Doc Ock standing alone in the library, seething.

Mysterio needed to be dealt with, in one way or another. He had a feeling their whole plan would fall apart because of him.

He couldn't afford that, and neither could Peter.

He left the library to return to Peter's room, Mysterio already back and talking excitedly with the kid. He felt his heart sink further at the smile on Peter's face, something he hadn't been able to put there himself in a long time.

He hoped for a day when that could be different. But for now, their dynamic would have to do. And he would need to disrupt Mysterio's and Peter's budding relationship.

No matter what.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys liked this chapter! I won't be able to post every day like I've been doing, things are getting busy at my job so this story won't be quite as frequent but I promise I'll work on it during my down time. ^^


	17. Worse Sights

_“Be strong, saith my heart; I am a soldier; I have seen worse sights than this.”_ \- Homer, The Odyssey 

Daredevil was swimming in red, or at least he thought it was red. He still dreamt in color, based off childhood memories, but as the years passed since his accident, the colors became muddled and the meaning associated with each one became lost to him. He tried to hold onto them as long as he could, to maintain some semblance of sight, but they flitted away like words lost on the wind, carried away until they were gone. Till there was nothing left but the words themselves, devoid of meaning and purpose. Red he knew was the color of blood, and was the first color he thought of as he continued to swim through it.

The sea was sticky and warm, and pulsed with each wave crashing over him. He could taste iron in his mouth, choking him. He came above the wave spitting water, gagging against the thickness coating his throat. The sky was black, completely absent of light, and Matt didn't know which way to swim towards. Which way to shore. He was swimming in an endless abyss of red with a sense of dread that he wasn't going to make it out.

He could hear something when he was under water, it was almost like a voice, it called to him worried, sounding frightened. Another wave crashed over him and he was dragged back down, the voice coming from the depths. He couldn't make out the words, but he didn't fight to return to the surface. He swam further down, trying to reach whoever was down there. Whoever was calling him.

The voice was more distinct now as it called for him, it was so familiar but Matt couldn't place it. The water filled his throat, leeching into his lungs, but he kept swimming. Kept diving further down into the depths.

He listened intently but pressure built on his eardrums. The water surrounding him turned into stone, trapping and crushing him. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. His chest burned now, his skin flaring and sizzling. 

Every sensation attacking him at once and he closed his eyes, unable to bear it. Unable to look it in the eye.

Unable to face it, and just when he thought the sensations would overwhelm him, drive him mad, they stopped. The stone cracked, freeing him, making him weightless once more and he was taken up, breaking free of the water. He gasped at the assault of air and his eyes opened again.

Daredevil awoke to darkness, as he always did. His senses came back to him as he felt his surroundings. He was laying on some kind of bed, the sheets a little too stiff to be his own, and he felt something pressing against his face. A hand came up to the feel the edges of the oxygen mask placed around his nose and mouth. The beeping of his heart monitor told him all he needed to know about his surroundings.

He heard shuffling and someone was at his side, his ears aiding him in distinguishing the person.

"Can you hear me? Daredevil?" Bruce Banner asked, sounding worried as he fiddled with some machines next to Matt's bed. 

Matt tried to talk but found he couldn't, his throat constricting and sore. He opted to give a thumbs up instead and Bruce gave a contrite laugh at the action. 

"Sorry, should've realized you can't really talk right now. Whoever attacked you did a number on your throat." Bruce said with a wince.

Matt felt confused at the statement, trying to remember what had happened before he woke up here. Everything was blank and the only thing that he could remember was a smell... a smell that felt wrong in the place. But for the life of him he couldn't say why it was wrong.

Everything remained dark in his mind but Bruce started to fill in the gaps.

"I'm not sure how much you remember but we went on a mission to rescue Spiderman. You and Black Widow formed a unit, investigating several warehouses in the fishing harbor close to Hell's Kitchen. Black Widow had reported to us that you found one of the warehouses to be suspicious and you went back to check again. She told us you were both attacked by Vulture and Scorpion. Vulture had taken her outside of the warehouse and she lost sight of you. The next thing we know was a while later she reported to us what happened there and Ironman took off to find you. He found you in one of the streets near the warehouse... you were unresponsive," Bruce sounded pained at the statement.

"He brought you back to Avengers Tower, F.R.I.D.A.Y was able to tell us you were poisoned, Scorpion's poison to be exact. I had been working on an antidote to counteract the poison for a while now and I used that to help you. The results of our tests show that the poison has been fully purged from your body. You sustained other injuries though that remain of concern."

Matt tried to wrap his head around Bruce's words, trying to place memories to them. They came back like a trailer of a bad movie, broken and disjointed of the full story.

_Electricity sizzled up his arms, burning and tearing at flesh. He could smell the charred skin as he ducked down under Electro's reaching arm-_

_"My name... it's Matt. I never told you that day. I-I should've-"_

_Metal grabbed him around the waist, ripping him from the ground and he was flying momentarily before thrown to asphalt, skidding across-_

_Matt could hear Doctor Octopus talking to Peter, almost sweetly. Could feel his own fury bringing him to his feet, the words falling from his lips a warning and a threat, "Don't fucking touch him, don't you dare fucking touch him-"_

_Cold metal gripped around his throat, squeezing, the air popping from his lungs like a balloon and the insanity in the doctor's words leeching into the air like smoke from a fire-_

_Peter was trembling, heart beating so erratically Matt was scared he would have a heart attack, his steps small as he approached-_

_"Y-you don't have to kill him yourself-"_

_His words fell into the open air, hoarse and raw, begging for Peter to run, to save himself. To not blame himself. It wasn't his failure, it was Matt's. It was always Matt's. He had failed to bring Peter home. Stick was right he was always a failure-_

_"Don't die yet you asshole-"_

Matt pushed himself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain radiating throughout his body. He desperately needed to center himself, sort through all of the information hitting him at once. Bruce made to help him sit but Matt waved a hand and the man hovered silently by his bedside instead.

He managed to sit up, breathing hard at the exertion, and rubbed a hand absently at his throat, wincing at the sensitivity of his skin. He reached up further, and took the oxygen mask off his face, letting it dangle around his neck.

"Water," he croaked, and Bruce was pouring him a glass within seconds. He handed it to him and Matt drank it greedily, the coldness soothing the ache inside his throat.

He finished the glass, Bruce taking the empty cup back without a word and Matt asked in a voice no above a whisper, "How long have I been out?"

"About two days," Bruce answered, taking a seat besides Daredevil's bed. "We were worried that you had fallen into a coma," he said, concern tinting his voice.

Two days Matt had been asleep. Two more days Peter was with the Sinister Six.

"Did you find Spiderman?" Matt asked, already knowing the answer before Bruce answered.

He could almost feel Banner swallow thickly and his heart beat skip at the question. "No... he's... he's still gone."

Matt wiped his palms on the sheets, feeling clammy and uncomfortable. He didn't like being in bed, hooked up to machines, with the smell of antiseptic overpowering the room. It made him feel weak and vulnerable, especially without his mask on.

His secret identity wasn't even something he was ready to confront right now with Dr. Banner. Or any of the Avengers. That discussion would have to be put on the back burner for now.

"Do you remember who attacked you?" Bruce questioned.

"...Doctor Octopus," Matt ground his teeth. "I fought Scorpion and Electro before Doctor Octopus attacked me." Matt coughed as his voice started to fail and Bruce handed him another glass of water which Matt gratefully drank.

He handed the glass back again as he continued, "He... he had Spiderman. I saw him."

Bruce's heart leapt. "Peter?! You saw him? He was there?"

Matt nodded and Bruce's questions came flying out, "How did he look? Was he injured? Did he fight them? Did he say anything to you-" Bruce's questions continued to tumble out and Matt let the man ask them all without taking a breath, knowing he needed to do so. 

Bruce's heart was beating so fast. Daredevil hadn't spent long with the man, only really getting acquainted with him in the past week while they planned their rescue mission, but he came to know Bruce's heartbeat. It was slow and steady, similar to Black Widow's, but not as assured. Matt couldn't quite explain why he thought of it in that sense, but it made sense to him as he came to know Bruce's personality. The doctor was always guessing himself, always indecisive in his thoughts, and his heartbeat represented that in Matt's eye. 

To feel his heart rate increase to this point was disconcerting, and Matt knew how much he must have been desperate for answers from him for the past two days.

"Bruce, you gotta let him speak if you want answers," Captain America said, standing in the doorway of the hospital room. Captain America's heartbeat was strong and faster than a normal human's, no doubt due to the serum he was injected with. His heartbeat felt much like his presence, unbending in the face of challenge.

Bruce mumbled some apologies as Steve made his way into the room, joining Bruce by Matt's bed. He could hear the smile in Cap's voice as he said, "Daredevil, I'm glad to see you awake. It was touch and go there for a while, so it's good to see you up."

"Well, I'm glad I'm not dead too." Matt said, and Steve winced at the sound of his voice.

"How are you feeling?" Steve asked, kindly. It was a good question in all honesty, Matt tried to assess his injuries but it was hard to distinguish exactly where the pain was coming from. There was a sharp, shooting pain lingering in his extremities, and if he weren't in front of Captain America and Dr. Banner he was pretty sure he'd be curled up in a ball because of it. 

"I've been better," Matt grunted. 

"You're doing better than we thought you'd be at this point," Bruce said, walking to the end of the bed and flipping through Daredevil's chart. "With your injuries we'd thought you'd be out for a while longer."

"I heal faster than normal people... not quite as advanced as Spiderman's healing, but enough to make a difference," He explained, rubbing tiredly at his face. The stubble on his chin was rough against his palm, and he thought idly about how he should shave. Karen would no doubt give him shit for it, tell him no respectable lawyer walks into court with stubble on his chin.

The thought of her sent a shiver down his spine, guilt settling in at the base. There was no doubt her and Foggy were worried about him, wondering what happened to him. He told them about the rescue mission, had given them as many details as he could without saying too much. But he knew they still worried, wondering if there would be a day Matt wouldn't return. His phone was probably filled with unanswered voicemails and texts. 

He really needed to get his phone and call them. 

"I'm sorry to ask this of you so soon after waking, but, can you tell us what happened?" Steve questioned, actually sounding regretful of it. "Was Spider-... was Peter there?" It was the first time Daredevil had ever heard Captain America sound so timid, so scared. Scared of what Matt would tell them.

He licked his lips nervously, willing his hands to still, to not show his own unsteadiness. 

"After I subdued Scorpion I made my way out of the warehouse. I encountered Doctor Octopus, Electro, and Rhino loading a truck. Spiderman was in there-" Bruce sucked in a sharp breath, hissing between his teeth. "I was unable to get to the truck before they drove off but I pursued them. I caught up and fought Electro on the roof of the truck... I don't remember much of the fight so I'm sorry for that." Steve shook his head, as if to say not to worry about it. Daredevil continued, "After I subdued him as well, I managed to open the truck door and... Peter was there."

Matt took a shaky breath, memories returning to him vividly the more he spoke and he remembered the way Peter backed away from him. Terrified of him, doubting that Matt was even real. Peter had never been afraid of him before and the memory made Matt's heart feel heavy. 

"He seemed to think I was an illusion of some kind at first."

"An illusion?" Bruce asked, confused. "Why would he think that?"

Matt hung his head, not wanting to say his own theories aloud. "I'm not sure but he was... frightened of me."

The quiet in the room hung like a morning frost, thick and chilled, suffocating everything. All of the men sat with the words, absorbing them, and feeling sicker as they processed them. What had the Sinister Six done to Peter?

"Perhaps he was drugged," Steve offered quietly, saying the words as if they hurt him. Matt simply nodded and offered, "He seemed lethargic from what I can remember so it's a possibility."

He kept talking, not wanting to fully weigh what that meant for Peter. "I was able to convince him I wasn't an illusion, but before I could take him from there Doctor Octopus attacked me... he overpowered me." Matt hissed, rubbing his throat absentmindedly, almost like he could still feel the claw wrapped around his throat. Steve handed him another glass of water, somehow knowing he needed it, and Matt downed it. 

"What did Peter do?" Bruce's voice was small, almost smaller than Matt's, as he asked.

"He... I thought I heard him try to come after me but... Doctor Octopus said something to him, something that halted his movements. He seemed almost... tender with Peter." Daredevil recounted the strange encounter, he didn't tell them how Doc Ock held Peter, as if he were comforting the boy. How Peter shrank back into the truck, shaking terribly. He didn't want to say it aloud, speak it back into existence. 

"Tender?" Steve echoed, confusion etched onto his face. "When he called us he said that they were going to take care of Spiderman, said he was going to protect him." Steve recalled, voice sounding distant as he thought back to the call. Daredevil had been briefed about the interaction the Avengers had with Doctor Octopus before, so the retelling wasn't shocking to him, but just like the Avengers, he had thought nothing of it. Not believing the man's words as Peter's blood trailed the alleys of warehouses. How could he say he was protecting someone after causing that? It was bullshit, and it made Matt's blood simultaneously boil and run cold.

"Maybe in his mind that's what he's doing," Bruce said and the room fell quiet again, trying to rationalize Octavius' behavior. It was hard to when the whole thing seemed nonsensical to them. 

"I don't have the answers to that," Matt said, grinding his teeth, feeling anger twisting his mouth. "Doctor Octopus continued his assault on me, he was going to kill me there was no doubt about it." He said it stone-faced, not really feeling one way or another about that fact. "But Peter stopped him from doing so-"

"How?" Steve breathed, and some hope flitted into his tone. Hopeful that Peter had fought back, was fighting to return to them and Matt hated to crush that hope. Hated the truth.

"He asked him to leave me, to let the poison take me instead-"

"That doesn't sound like Peter," Bruce snapped, anger lighting his eyes. "He wouldn't do that."

"I know," Matt tried to say but Banner kept talking, growing louder with each word. "That's not who Peter is, he would never just give up like that. He would've fought against Doc Ock, he would've-"

"Bruce," Steve cut him off, worry in his tone now. "Calm down."

Daredevil couldn't see the green crawling up Bruce's neck, his pupils dilating and eyes looking crazed, but he could feel his heartbeat. It was no longer unassured, it was heavy and strong. But as the man calmed, his heartrate returned to normal and the hair on the back of Daredevil's neck settled. 

"I'm sorry," Bruce mumbled and took a seat, breathing slowly to calm his temper. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright," Steve assured him, putting a hand on Bruce's shoulder, his hand a steady presence for Bruce to ground himself. "Daredevil, what was Peter's mental state like? Can you speak on that at all?"

"He..." Matt paused, unsure of how to word it. He wasn't a psychiatrist so he didn't know any technical terms and the words to describe how Peter was seemed insufficient in the moment. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. He had seen Peter scared before, sure, there had been times during patrol. But Peter had seemed to always be scared for _him_. Scared that Matt got hurt, Matt almost got killed. He never worried about himself, which was something he had told Peter he should be concerned about. That every hero needed to worry about themselves as well, after all how could you expect to save anyone if you couldn't save yourself. Peter listened and acknowledged it but he never changed. Never put his safety above someone else's, he only had concern for others. So to see him, cowering and unwilling to fight for Matt was shocking. It was something Matt never expected, never could've seen happening.

And it broke Matt's heart to see the change. To see how much his captivity had affected him in just a few weeks. To see the light in Peter diminish.

But he had silently communicated with Peter, knowing the boy understood his pleas. To run, to use Matt as a distraction to save himself. But he didn't. He went to Doctor Octopus, terrified, his heart pounding violently in his chest, his legs trembling. And he begged, begged for Doc Ock to spare Matt. To not kill him by his own hand. Had placated the doctor by assuring him the poison would take Matt, that death was still coming. 

It would just take a bit longer to get there.

And the doctor had listened, had allowed Peter's plea to persuade him in staying his hand. Had taken Peter away from him, and Matt screamed and screamed for Peter to run. 

He didn't.

Matt's heart broke even further. But there was hope, the old Peter was still there. He had gone against Octavius in a way, had still fought for Matt in some manner. Peter didn't let Otto murder him, he had given him a chance to be saved.

If Peter hadn't intervened there was no doubt he would be dead. No doubt his phone full of voicemails and unanswered texts would stay that way.

Peter had saved his life, just not in his usual fashion, and to Matt that meant that the light was still there, and deep down Peter was still fighting. Still fighting for his true family.

"He was not himself." Matt finally answered. "He was scared, but he fought back in the way he could. He pleaded with Doctor Octopus to spare my life, I believe he reminded him of the poison to further convince him I was no longer a threat. I could feel his fear though... I've never seen Peter so scared before." Matt finished, running a hand through his hair, feeling how greasy his locks were. 

Steve and Bruce were quiet, Steve gripped the metal railing on Matt's bed hard enough to bend it, his knuckles white and his face contorted in emotion. Bruce was breathing deeply, trying to keep calm. To keep the Hulk from emerging.

"Was he hurt?" Steve asked, low. The metal was giving way under him. 

"He had a head wound from what I can remember... I don't know how he received it."

The metal snapped, clutched in Steve's grip and the action seemed to shake him from his stupor slightly, apologizing for it. He stood, dropping the metal bar in the trash. His shoulders were hunched and veins rippled along his arms as he clenched his fists, trying to calm down.

"Do you know where they were driving off to? Falcon and the Winter Solider attempted to track them from where Ironman found you but they lost the trail after a couple of miles." Bruce asked, sorrow creeping into his tone, knowing already the answer.

"I don't." Matt said, rubbing his throat again. His voice was going to give out completely if he kept talking and both of the other men seemed to understand in that moment.

"Thank you for all of the information," Steve said, a shaky smile back on his face. "I'll relay what you said to the team. Rest up, Daredevil." With that said Steve took his leave, exiting the medical wing and making his way to the living accommodations. 

He was shaking. From anger. From grief. From shock.

From every emotion he's been battling since Peter was taken. Steve had remained in control until then, only allowing himself to feel in the privacy of his quarters. To try and unburden himself when he could, but he was the leader of the group, despite what Stark would say.

He was the man responsible for morale. Responsible to keep his team together no matter what. 

Responsible for bringing Peter home.

He couldn't allow himself to succumb to his emotions. To feel the hopelessness that threatened to consume him if he let it. Cause by god it was so easy to let it do just that.

He could see the faces of his team members as each day passed. Could see their own hope dwindling, their own anger building. He wanted to say something, _do_ something about it but for once he was unsure how.

How could he reassure them they would find Peter? That he would be okay the moment he was back in their arms. Back where he belonged.

He overheard Stark's conversation with Peter's aunt one day. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, he was just walking by Tony's workshop when he heard the hushed voices. The absolute despair in May Parker's voice had stopped him, had gripped him so tight it hurt to breathe.

How she begged Tony to bring Peter home, to save her nephew. The child she thought of as her own. How she couldn't lose another family member, not again. Not after Ben.

Steve knew of Ben Parker but only in passing. He had heard Tony talk about the man maybe only once before, had said not to mention him around Peter. That the kid was still broken up over his death. And Steve could relate, none of them were unfamiliar with death. Peggy's locket sat in his nightstand drawer, a constant reminder of the life and love that had been taken from him. He found himself holding it at night, afraid to open it. Afraid to look at Peggy's face. Afraid to relive those moments again. 

So he understood how Peter felt and he never mentioned his uncle to him. But hearing May Parker weep openly in Tony's workshop, talking about her deceased husband and how she couldn't lose Peter too, made Steve wish he had talked about Ben with Peter before. Had shared his own grief about Peggy with him, had told him that it was okay to grieve and to feel sorrow at the loss. That the pain got better with time but it always stayed, a stain on your heart that couldn't be cleaned. That it was okay to live with that pain, as long as you didn't let it consume you.

He wanted to have those hard discussions with him now. Wanted to share his stories with the kid. 

Wanted to try and heal together, as much as they could. 

He couldn't falter in his resolve. In his duty. Steve was a solider, through and through, and he would do anything to get Peter back. To bring him home to his aunt, his friends, to New York... _to them_.

Steve had walked away from Tony and May Parker quietly, his shoulders set, knowing what he had to do. His feelings didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was keeping his team together. Keeping them together for their own sake and Peter's, and that's what Steve would do.

As he made his way to the living quarters, ready to tell the rest of the team Daredevil's information, he braced himself for their anger. For some defeat to settle in their eyes and he would assure them that this wasn't the end.

It was only the beginning.

The rest of the Avengers sat around the living room, CNN playing in the background on the TV. Clint and Sam talked quietly with one another, a stark contrast to their usual chatter, as Natasha, Tony, and Bucky sat on the couch watching the news. Although by the glassy look in their eyes he could tell they weren't really. Their focus was elsewhere.

"Daredevil is awake." Steve announced and everyone's heads shot up to look at him.

Clint was the first to speak, "What did he say? What happened?"

"He told Bruce and I about the events of that night. He confirmed what you said, Natasha, about Scorpion." Nat's eyes were dark and her hand subconsciously went to her side, where the healing gashes sustained from Vulture's talons were. "He said that Peter was with other members of the Sinister Six-"

_"Where?"_ Tony interrupted, eyes wide and he stood abruptly from the couch. "Where did they take him?"

Steve took a breath before answering, preparing himself for the hurt his words would cause his team. "Daredevil doesn't know, they left him and drove off. Sam and Bucky, you two know more than Daredevil does about what direction they headed."

Tony looked unstable, gripping the edge of the couch to balance himself and Natasha stood, a gentle hand guiding Tony to sit back down. For once Tony didn't fight it and let her push him back down onto the cushions, his face ashen as he sat down. "He saw Peter? Was he unconscious?" Natasha asked, taking Tony's place where he stood.

Steve shook his head, "He was awake. He... Daredevil said he wasn't himself."

"What does that mean?" Sam asked, frustrating edging his tone. "Did he talk with the kid?"

"He did. He said Peter thought him to be an illusion at first-"

"An illusion?" Clint said sharply, tone the same as Sam's. "Why... what could possibly make him think that?"

Steve clasped his hands behind his back, squeezing tightly, trying to keep his composure. "He was unsure why, just that Peter didn't think he was real until Daredevil convinced him he was."

"So if we show up to the Sinister Six's front door will Peter think we're all illusions?" Bucky asked with trepidation. Steve gave a long look at his friend, knowing how Bucky felt about topics like this. He would talk with him in private later, help placate his fears as best he could.

"That is something we should prepare for, yes." Steve said and everyone seemed to tense, bodies rigid and breath caught in throats. They didn't think that was even a possibility. That Peter wouldn't trust they were really there.

The air grew thicker but Steve pressed on, needing to relay all the information he knew.

"Daredevil said Doctor Octopus attacked him in front of Peter, that Peter was stopped by Doc Ock saying something to him-"

"What did he say?" Sam asked.

"Daredevil didn't know, but it... it scared Peter. It kept him from helping Daredevil."

Tony was looking at the floor, breathing hard as if he just ran a marathon. The pallor of his complexion stood out against his dark hair and purple bags under his eyes, and if Steve didn't know better he would think Tony was sick.

"Daredevil said Doctor Octopus was going to kill him but Peter begged him to spare his life and Doc Ock listened. He left with Peter after that and Tony, I assume you found Daredevil minutes later."

Tony shot up, ignoring Nat's hand on his bicep, and went to the kitchen, the rest of the team watching him nervously. He rummaged through the cabinet grabbing a glass and Steve's brows furrowed as he wondered what Tony would fill it with. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled as Tony filled the glass with water, shakily drinking it.

The team continued to watch him until Natasha broke the silence, "Did Peter seem to be drugged? Was he lucid?"

"We brought up the possibility of him being drugged, Daredevil said he seemed lethargic. Especially with the mention of illusions we thought it could be a side effect from some kind of sedation."

"That could explain his behavior," Bucky said, fingers digging into his knees, not looking directly at anyone. Steve noticed the look in his eyes, far away, but still there. He moved to his friend, placing a hand on his shoulder and it startled Bucky. He jumped slightly, but relaxed quickly, allowing the weight of his friends hand to keep him there. To keep him from retreating into his memories.

"Who else was there?" Clint asked, arms crossed. "You said Daredevil mentioned running into other members of the Sinister Six."

"Besides Scorpion and Doctor Octopus he mentioned the Rhino and Electro."

"Electro?" Nat's voice was sharp, eyes looking like they could cut glass. "How is that possible? Electro was in the upper west side. There were reports of him being there."

Silence permeated the room, the question sitting in the open air waiting to be answered. Steve's face fell, shocked. He hadn't even thought of that, didn't think about it twice when Daredevil mentioned fighting him. The electrical burns on the man's arms were proof enough that he had encountered the villain. Had fought him like he said.

How could Electro be in two places at once?

"Peter thought Daredevil was an illusion..." Tony said, his voice so small that Steve almost missed it. He looked to his friend, could see the gears turning in his head. Could see the pieces starting to come together.

"Was Electro also an illusion?" Sam asked, looking just as confused as the rest of them felt.

"It's possible," Steve said, thinking hard. "Daredevil said he fought Electro on the roof of the truck that had Peter and Doctor Octopus in it. He has burns on his arms, there's no way that wasn't real-"

"So then the report of Electro on the upper west side-" Nat said, mind also running a mile a minute.

"That was false." Tony finished, all of them taking in the information.

That they had been fooled. Peter had been in the warehouse the entire time and because they had fallen for the deception they didn't find him.

They let him slip away again. Their failure was profound and stifling.

It was in the very air they breathed, heavy in their lungs. It tasted like poison in the back of their mouths.

Steve wanted to gag.

Natasha was the first to break the silence, "How is that possible? None of them have that kind of power or technology."

"Maybe Vulture or Doc Ock? They seem to be the most capable with technology," Sam offered, trying to wrap his head around the idea of illusions.

"It's possible." Steve furrowed his brow, not quite believing either of the villains were capable of creating such technology. The reports of Electro had seemed so real, the damage he caused the city was certainly. Signs and streets were singed, and storefronts lay littered with glass and broken merchandise. Civilians swore they saw the man robbing the stores. Said it was clear as day who it was. So how was that possible if it wasn't real?

"They could've developed technology like that but..." Natasha said, having the same thoughts as Steve. Something didn't seem right with the idea.

"Maybe they're getting help?" Clint asked quietly. 

They all paused, wondering who was capable of providing such help. Who had the abilities or technology to aid the Sinister Six.

Who would willingly help them was an even better question.

They all stood together in the living room, mind turning, and the silence overpowering until Tony lifted his head, tilting his chin up and a newfound determination glinted in his eyes.

"Let's go say hi to some old friends."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I'm sorry this took me longer to put out than normal. As I said in the previous chapter, things are getting busier at my job so this story won't be updated as frequently as I would like. I will work on it whenever I have the time, but please be patient with me ^^ I'll update when I can!


	18. Mine Enemies

_"Had I but served my God, with half the zeal, I served my King, he would not in mine age. Have left me naked to mine enemies."_ \- Shakespeare, Henry VIII

Whether or not Peter wanted it, he started to fall into routine with the Sinister Six and Mysterio. 

Mysterio's apartment was bigger than Peter initially thought and on his third day there Mysterio finally gave him a proper tour of the place. Electro and Doc Ock spoke in hushed whispers before Mysterio whisked Peter away and soon enough Maxwell caught up with the two, claiming he wanted to see the tour as well. Mysterio just laughed and said, "I wouldn't want you getting lost in my enormous apartment!" Electro had good naturedly chuckled at the comment, but a scowl quickly replaced the smile. Peter was pretty sure a scowl was just a permanent fixture on his face.

Mysterio first took him down past the living room into a row of hallways Peter had yet to explore. He showed each room. Martin Li, Scorpion, Electro, and Rhino all had their own room down this wing and when Mysterio had opened Mac's door the man was sleeping soundly on the bed, knee still propped up and snoring so loud that the nice china on a shelf shook. Electro had snarled and slammed the door shut, exclaiming, "I have to hear this all night, I don't need to hear it now!" Electro's room was right next to Scorpion's and Peter wondered if Mysterio purposefully arranged it that way. 

Down the hall was a hall bathroom, although it seemed unnecessary to Peter as each bedroom had its own private one anyways. There was also an office that appeared to be practically unused. It had an ornate desk sitting in the center of the room, closer to the window and two couches propped up on either side. The walls were lined with books, but if he looked closely he could see all of the dust sitting on top of them, seeming as if the books had never been touched. Peter tried to read some of the spines to see what types of books Mysterio kept but he was grabbed by the elbow and dragged to the next room before he could do so.

The next room was Peter's favorite he had seen so far, it was a workshop filled with gadgets and tools. He walked around it in awe, admiring each aspect of the room and his Spidey Sense buzzed quietly in the back of his skull. He couldn't quite put his finger on it but the room seemed familiar in a way, like he had been there before. But none of the projects Mysterio was working on was anything Peter had seen before. He spotted a round camera sitting on the workshop table, its lens pointed directly at Peter and goosebumps broke out on his skin. He didn't need to be dragged away this time and exited with the other two men.

At the very end of the hallway was a door that led to a wrap around balcony, comfortable looking couches and chairs decorated it, and plants beginning to brown from the cold October air sat in their pots in an almost misery. Peter had asked if they could step outside, wanting to breathe in some fresh air, but before Mysterio could answer Electro did. "You know that can't happen right now kid, besides it's brick out. You don't wanna go out there." Peter of course disagreed, wanting more than anything to be outside, but he didn't press it and Mysterio added nothing to the conversation, shockingly silent for once. They walked away from the door, and Peter had to drag his eyes away from it, knowing it would only upset him more if he continued to think about it.

The tour continued in the other hallway where Peter's room resided. Doc Ock, Vulture, and Mysterio also lived down that wing. Mysterio made to open Doc Ock's door but Electro's hand grabbed the man's arm, halting his movements. "Doc said he didn't want you going in there," Electro said and a crackle of electricity slithered down his torso, coming off as a warning. But if the man really wanted to go into Octavius' room he didn't say and let the handle go, hands up in defeat. "I get it, he doesn't want me snooping through his diary. I mean I would so it's best if I don't tempt myself!" He laughed and Peter felt like he was winking at him behind the dome, and he smiled despite himself.

Vulture's room looked practically identical to Peter's, with nothing noteworthy inside except for the man's mechanical wings, hanging by the window basked in the glow of the afternoon sun. Peter might've said they looked angelic in that moment if he hadn't almost died by those very wings on a handful of occasions. He couldn't quite view them as beautiful because of it.

Mysterio, surprisingly, showed Peter and Electro his own bedroom. It was the largest room by far and was completely decorated to look like the room of a subpar magician. There was a box at the foot of the bed that had saws shoved in between the slots of the boards. A large disappearing cupboard sat snugly in the corner and a wooden table stood besides it, adorned with different top hots, each one looking cheesier than the next. Flowers littered almost every available surface in the room, either sitting in vases or tied together in bunches. Playing cards scattered across the floor, all face up and the jokers seemed to be spread in a circle of sorts on the ground. Everything was especially gaudy and hideous and Peter couldn't help the grin that broke out across his face at the sight of it. It was such a breath of fresh air compared to the extravagance of the rest of the apartment, even as strange as it was.

Electro on the other hand looked at the room in utter disdain and muttered, "What the actual fuck is this?"

"It's my room of course!" Mysterio said, pulling a cheap black and white wand from his sleeve and waving it over one of the top hats. Peter and Electro waited for something to happen but nothing came out of the hat. Mysterio looked puzzled, pressing his dome right against the brim of it and popped out a second later. "Uh oh... I've lost Harry."

Electro ignored Mysterio's comment as he meandered around the bedroom. "Is this seriously all of your stuff?" Maxwell picked up a handkerchief on the night stand, face twisting in disgust. 

"Of course it is, I'm a magician after all!" Mysterio bounded over with the top hat and shoved it in front of Peter. "Go ahead Petey!" Peter eyed the top hat, warily, but didn't see any harm in playing along. He stuck his hand in and grabbed ahold of something, pulling it out. It was a small Spiderman plushie, dressed in his red and blue suit. The eyes stared into him, somehow full of life despite it being a doll, and it reminded Peter of before. Before the construction site, when he was so carefree as Spiderman. How he felt swinging through New York. How free he had been, in mind and in body.

"I saw this and thought it was just too cute not to get! Do you like it?" Mysterio asked, seeming almost worried that Peter wouldn't actually like it. 

His emotions were building as he thought back to Spiderman, back to his previous life, but the doll was comforting in his grip. It was also a nice gesture, something the other members of the Sinister Six hadn't quite extended to him. He could tell Mysterio was trying to be kind, in his own odd way, and so he put a smile back on his face and said, "Yeah... this is cool. Thank you."

Mysterio lit up and clapped his hands, giving a whoop. Peter let the man revel in his moment, not wanting to confront the feelings that were swirling in his mind. He didn't want to feel bad for once, especially at something that was supposed to cheer him up. He just wanted to be content.

So, for now, he allowed himself to be just that.

Mysterio took them to the last room down the hallway which became Peter's favorite room, instantly. The workshop completely forgotten at the sight of one of the most impressive libraries Peter had ever laid eyes on. 

The library was grand with a spiral staircase standing proudly in the middle, that twisted up to a reading loft covered with cushions, perfect for lounging. The walls were lined with bookcase after bookcase, each one full and brimming with books both new and old. A day bed sat in the corner of the room, against a wall of windows, that filled the room with beautiful filtered sunlight that caressed every plant and book lovingly. A desk was pressed into a corner, with a vintage typewriter, ready and waiting to be put to use. If Peter had to describe the room in one word he would simply say it was _impressive_. 

He breathed in the smell of books and candles, the air not feeling as stale in here as it did in the rest of the apartment. He felt he could breathe a little easier.

"Wow..." He said in amazement, walking the room slowly, trying to take everything in. 

"This room isn't very exciting," Mysterio waved it off, and Electro seemed to be in agreeance with him for once. "It doesn't have any pizazz ya know?"

"I... I love it," Peter said, almost out of breath as he stood near the wall of windows, looking out to the bustling streets of Manhattan. Cars crawled forward like turtles in a race, and pedestrians scurried across the sidewalks like ants marching home. He caught sight of a shop worker, sweeping outside his store, and he watched him in fascination, realizing he was the first real person outside of the Sinister Six, Mysterio, and Daredevil he had seen in weeks. He tried to study his face, memorize his features but his attention was taken away as Mysterio's voice pulled him away, "Really, Petey? I didn't take you for much of a reader... but if you love it, you can use this place as much as you want!"

Peter spun around at that, eyes wide and bright and his voice barely came out as he asked, "Really?"

"Yeah! You can go anywhere in here-" Mysterio said and stopped as Electro coughed, "Oh except for the doctor's room-" Another cough. "Oh and outside, but anywhere else is fine!"

Peter held the Spiderman plushie tight in both hands as he smiled, true and bright, for the first time in a long time. "Okay! I... this is-" He spluttered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as he tried to put his thoughts into words. 

Mysterio came up to him in one stride, placing his hands on his shoulders. The back of Peter's eyes stung for a second, but it was gone as quickly as it came, and he couldn't decipher what his Spidey Sense was trying to tell him as Mysterio said, "I understand and no need to thank the magnificent me! You are a guest after all, and I treat my guests well." Mysterio laughed at that and Peter didn't have the heart to tell the man he already told Peter that before, so he just nodded and left the library with Maxwell and Mysterio, feeling lighter knowing he wasn't confined to a single room anymore.

And just like that Peter started to fall into a routine.

He would wake in the morning, shower and get ready, thankfully in clothes that actually fit him. The day after Peter had woken up for the first time in Mysterio's apartment the man had went and bought new clothes for Peter. It was nothing fancy, just some more sweats and a mixture of plain long sleeve tees and t-shirts. As well as some new boxers and socks, he had even bought Peter some Spiderman boxers, which he felt mildly embarrassed to wear for some reason. He did wear his fellow Avengers merchandise, especially boxers, but that felt okay in a way. Wearing his own merchandise felt different. But Peter wasn't about to complain about new clothes, he was more than happy to wear Spiderman boxers as long as they were clean.

After getting ready, his stomach would demand food, so he found his way to the kitchen where, usually, the rest of the Sinister Six were awake. Martin Li seemed to be the designated cook amongst the group and was always preparing breakfast when Peter arrived. 

"Peter," He would always say with a warm smile, "Have a seat. Food will be ready soon."

Peter sat at the same stool, the second from the right and Rhino would join moments later, taking the seat besides Peter. Aleksei was quiet in the morning, seeming introspective, but he always ruffled Peter's hair lightly as he sat down besides him. And Peter's skin always bristled at the contact, but he found that he started to look forward to it. It was a quick and gentle touch, affectionate but not overly, and it reminded Peter of the way Clint would sometimes ruffle his hair as he passed him in the hall. He could almost hear Clint's voice saying, "Looking good, kid." when Rhino sat with him in the morning. It brought a sadness to the front, but the warm presence of the man, was slowly easing it to the background, still there but almost forgotten. 

Martin was an exceptional cook, Peter found out, and liked just about everything the man prepared for him, breakfast being no exception. He slid a stack of pancakes Peter's direction, drenched in butter and maple syrup, and Peter practically inhaled the food. He debated if the pancakes were as good as Sam's were. Falcon loved anything breakfast and always prepared breakfast food any time of the day, something Peter was more than happy to exploit. He always ended up having pancakes after a mission with Sam and Martin's reminded him of those talks he had with him. The ache in his chest deepened at the thought but the warm food in his belly helped keep the ache at bay.

Mysterio would usually drag him away after breakfast for some kind of activity. He particularly loved trying to teach Peter amateur magic tricks. One of the other Sinister Six would usually accompany them if Mysterio took him to a room that was out of their line of sight, but they never said much as Peter spent time with the hypnotist. He taught Peter how to do the saw trick, and they used Martin, rather unwillingly, as the person being sawed in half. When Peter got the trick right, confetti rained down on them and Mysterio handed Peter a trophy that said, "Best Spidey Magician". And as always, Peter didn't quite have the heart to tell Mysterio he didn't really care for magic tricks or the trophy, so he just smiled politely and took it. He put it on his desk in his bedroom and sometimes found himself looking at it. Feeling uneasy but he was always unsure why. 

During lunch time Scorpion would ask Peter if he wanted to watch tv with him, it was the only thing the man could really do as his knee healed. Peter never objected to the entertainment, especially since he had gone weeks without. At first they watched whatever was on cable until Mac decided to check out Netflix instead. "What's good on here?" He grumbled and Peter, who was usually silent during his time with him put out a suggestion, "Have you ever seen Brooklyn Nine Nine?" 

Mac looked to him, a little shocked at Peter speaking, and answered, "No... what's it about?"

"It's a comedy show about cops in New York. It's funny... I-I like it." He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed, not sure if Mac would be interested in it. It was also a show that Peter watched with Bucky and Steve back in Avengers Tower. It was funny to watch it with them due to all their questions on pop culture, having never experienced some of them before. Watching shows like that always made Peter feel a bit superior, that he could teach Captain America and the Winter Solider a thing or two instead of the other way around. It was a nice change of pace in their dynamic and helped him feel closer to the two. 

"Sounds good to me," Mac said, turning it on the first episode, and they spent the next few days binging the series and both talked about it together. Mac had a lot of opinions but he always wanted to hear Peter's, and normally he liked to watch tv quietly but with Scorpion he enjoyed the conversation, since it was a show he had already seen before. Their conversations were easy and light and Peter found himself looking forward to spending time with the incapacitated Scorpion. 

After his binge-watching with Mac Peter found himself drawn to the library. He spent most of his time there, curled up on the daybed reading one of the hundreds of books in there. He also spent time people watching, and wondered at times if the people he noticed could see him so high up. There was the store worker at the corner bodega, a young man with red hair and small stature. He spent most of his time sweeping the front steps, and stepping outside for a smoke break so he could sit on his phone. In his mind Peter started calling him Dylan, since he just looked like a Dylan, and started to make up stories about his life. Dylan only worked at the bodega so he could save up money to pay for college, and he also spent his nights working as a waiter at the diner down the street. There was a girl he liked that was a regular there, but he never had the courage to tell her, and would spend the time on his phone going through her social media, trying to work up the courage to confess. But everyday was the same for him and he never did. 

God, Peter wished Dylan would just tell her so that he could have a more interesting storyline to imagine.

When he wasn't imagining what the bodega worker's name and life was like, he spent napping on the day bed. He always started out reading a book but quickly fell asleep in the setting sun of New York, warm and golden on his face, and lulling him to sleep with ease. He always awoke to a blanket draped over him and his book placed on the side table next to him, book marker in place. He would turn and see Doc Ock at the desk, reading his own book, or working on something. The first time he saw him there was startling and a little unnerving but as the days drifted by Octavius' presence was expected, and Peter no longer felt strained by it. The man was always quiet as he concentrated on his task and only ever said anything when it was time to eat dinner, beckoning Peter to join him in the kitchen. Sometimes Peter didn't wake naturally and Otto's hand would be gentle on his shoulder, shaking him awake, telling him it was time to eat. 

Peter would join him and the rest of the villains for dinner. Together they all ate in the living room and kitchen, putting something on the tv to watch and the chatter was friendly and familiar. As each day passed Peter found himself adding more to the conversations, inputting his advice or jokes, and the men responded in kind. Peter got the impression that they appreciated his words, they liked to hear what he had to say. It reminded him of dinners with the Avengers and the easy conversations that flowed especially after a long day of missions. It felt warm, and made Peter feel at home, and selfishly, he clung to that. He clung to the good feelings clouding his judgement and his heart. He wanted so desperately to feel good again. So he allowed himself to and it was no more apparent than when dinner finished, and the dishes were cleaned.

All of the Sinister Six and Mysterio, when he was around, would get together in the living room to watch a movie together and Peter always ended up curled up on the end of the couch, tucked in a blanket. The members who sat next to him changed every night, but each man laid a comforting hand in Peter's brown curls and ran their fingers through his hair, and he let them. He never said anything as he let the men who kidnapped him and stole him of everything, touch him in such an affectionate and loving way. And Peter couldn't excuse it. He wasn't drugged, he no longer had a fever, no one was threatening him into complying with that action.

He let it happen because he wanted it. He wanted to know that he had some kind of closeness with somebody still. He wanted to feel safe and warm. And the men were starting to make him feel exactly that. He cherished those nights as he fell asleep during the movie, the hands in his hair always so relaxing that he couldn't keep his eyes open for long. 

And those feelings he had that once made him feel sick started to melt away, started to make him feel content instead. 

For better or for worse, Peter had fallen into routine with the Sinister Six, and it felt good to have one again.

He would always wake in the morning in his bed, not remembering having gotten up from the living room couch to get there, and the routine would start again. 

It was the same everyday, except for this night.

Peter awoke harshly, gasping into the air, cold sweat brimming on his forehead. His room was bathed in darkness, the curtains to his windows drawn, and only the peak of glittering neon signs like falling stars danced across his floor from the crack in the curtains. He wiped at his face as he took in large gulps of air, trying to calm his erratic heart and burning lungs. 

He couldn't remember his dream, trying to grab onto fragments but it slipped away like water down a drain. His hands were shaking and he gripped them tight to his chest to stop them from doing so. He swung his feet off the bed, standing on shaky feet as he pushed his bedroom door open, making his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

His feet felt cold against the marble floor as he grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water, drinking it greedily. The cool liquid helped steady him and he started to pour himself another glass when he heard muffled voices from down the hall. 

A light was on, peaking underneath the slightly ajar door to the office. The voices weren't clear and Peter walked forward a bit, curious as to who was up so late. He was quiet in his movements, pressed close to the wall as he approached the door and the voices came into focus.

"They've already questioned Tombstone... they're making their way down some kind of list of Spiderman's enemies." Vulture said, serious and tired. 

"It's only a matter of time until they get to you, Beck." Vulture continued and a shadow joined the light as the man moved about the room. 

Did he hear that right? Who was Beck?

"Nobody knows where I am, I haven't made an appearance in a while," Mysterio answered and a coldness washed over Peter. His mind connecting the name with the man.

Mysterio's real name. 

"They're already realizing something more is going on here... how long will it take them to figure out the drones?" Vulture asked, voice pinched and worry creeping into his tone.

"Not long with the way they're going," Mysterio said and Peter could hear shuffling in the room. "We have to come up with a way to get them off the trail."

Peter had never heard Mysterio sound so... composed before. The man was always bouncing off the walls, saying nonsensical things, he didn't even know he was capable of being so calm and collected. 

Was this his true personality? Had he been deceiving Peter all this time?

A knot formed in his stomach as he continued to eavesdrop. 

"What do you propose?" Vulture questioned.

"We show them Petey." 

The knot twisted further, making his throat dry and his breath hitch.

Vulture sounded confused, "Why? What would that do?"

Some of Mysterio's playfulness came back into his voice as he replied, "If we show them the real Spidey, it may unravel them. The Doc will have to be there, too, and he'll have to be real convincing that it's only you guys who have him. It might make them question whether or not the Electro spotting was just civilians giving false reports."

"That sounds risky... what's to say it doesn't just make them double down on this illusion theory?" Vulture pressed, not sounding convinced. 

"Anything worth something is a risk, Toomesy!" Mysterio laughed, his usual demeanor back and Peter felt nauseous. 

He knew who they were talking about, but the illusion thing was confusing. What drones? What sighting of Electro? None of it made sense to him. 

As he tried to wrap his head around it, both men started to shift about the room, coming close to the door, and Peter's Spidey Sense went off. He looked up panicked, as one of them approached the door and he quickly slipped into the workshop, right besides the office. He was able to close the workshop door quietly, just as Vulture approached, looking out into the dark hallway for a second, before closing the door to the office completely.

Peter stood at the door, heart beating fast, and waiting for the moment he felt it was safe to leave and head back to his room. 

"Peter? What are you doing in here?" 

Peter froze, body stiffening and heart stopping. He turned slowly to the voice, and looked at Doctor Octopus, who sat at the work bench staring at Peter, stunned. The man's googles were on and his arms attached to his back, as they stopped whatever task they were working on as both men seemed to be completely frozen in the moment. 

Peter's body trembled, and his mind raced, as he thought of a plausible lie. The only thing that could save him in that moment.

It was only a half-lie so it fell easily past his lips as he wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. "I-I couldn't sleep."

Octavius stared at him, the shock wearing off, and curiosity taking its place. He walked over to Peter, eyebrows scrunched behind the googles. "Couldn't sleep? Did you have a nightmare?"

Peter hesitated, not sure if he should say the truth, but figured it was better to lean into it. It would help make his story more believable. Would maybe keep the doctor from figuring out what he did in between waking from his nightmare and stumbling into the workshop.

He nodded, looking to the floor sheepishly. Octavius sighed as he bent down to Peter's level, brushing aside stray curls that fell in front of Peter's eyes. "Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?"

Peter shook his head, his ears turning red from embarrassment, realizing now he should've come up with an actual lie instead. This was just mortifying. He made it seem like he was a small child looking for his parents in the middle of the night cause he had a bad dream about the boogeyman. 

"N-no... I don't remember it."

The doctor opened his mouth to respond but the door to the workshop opened a second later and Vulture stepped in saying, "Otto we think we found a solu-" stopping when he spotted Peter. 

"Peter? What are you doing here?" Adrian asked, completely flabbergasted at the teenager's presence. 

"He says he couldn't sleep," Octavius explained. "Had a nightmare."

"Did you come looking for Octavius? How did you know he was in here?" Adrian's eyes seemed to be all knowing in that moment, looking at Peter the way he used to look at Peter when he was Spiderman. Cold and calculating.

He ignored it, leaning further into the half-truth. "I-I didn't... I heard voices and came in here." He mumbled, trying to make himself look small under Vulture's gaze. "I didn't mean to bother you."

"You're not a bother," Otto smiled sympathetically and drew Peter in, wrapping his arms around the boy.

There was a scent clinging to Octavius' skin, it smelt almost like warm honey and Peter felt his body relax into the hold. His mind grew fuzzy, and a strange calmness washed over him. His brows furrowed in confusion though at the onslaught of exhaustion gripping him suddenly. 

"Why..." He mumbled against Doc Ock's chest, the scent further assaulting his senses, the fog wrapping around his mind. 

"Peter?" Octavius asked in concern, pulling the boy away to hold his face, noticing the glassy look in Peter's eyes. The calloused hands on his skin felt strangely nice and Peter leaned more into it, allowing Doc Ock to hold him upright, he wasn't sure he could stand on his own right now anyways.

"Otto..." Vulture came into view, also looking at Peter with worry, and then something seemed to click and he whispered in Octavius' ear. The concern quickly vanished from his face and morphed into an apologetic look. 

"I'm sorry Peter... it was something I was testing, I forgot I was wearing it." He helped Peter to the workbench, keeping him steady as he sat Peter down. He took his goggles off to better look at the hero.

"How do you feel? Are you okay?" Doc Ock asked.

"What's happening... I feel tired," Peter managed to get out, his head feeling like mush and his eyes blinking steadily, trying to stay awake. 

"It's just something to relax you is all, I didn't intend to see you tonight though, so I apologize for this." Octavius grimaced, and Vulture looked the same. 

"Relax? Why?" He said, his body feeling like dead weight in Doctor Octopus' grip, but even with the fog in his head he didn't feel like he wasn't himself, like his thoughts weren't his own. He just felt unbelievably tired, like there was no fight in him at all. 

"It's just in case... I wanted to make something that was not as invasive as the injections." The doctor said. "I was only testing it to make sure it didn't affect me in some way, I didn't mean to test it on you so soon."

"I..." Peter paused, his mouth feeling dry and he licked his lips. He didn't know what to say, he should be scared by the information, by the tests, but those feelings didn't hold any water. Not when his body was practically useless and a pleasant fog hung over his thoughts and feelings. He was so incredibly relaxed that the doctor's words held little meaning to him in the moment. 

"Let's get you to bed." Octavius picked him up, cradling him in his hold and both he and Vulture made their way out of the room. Adrian said something quietly to the doctor before returning to the office, but Peter barely noticed as Otto took him to his bedroom. 

They entered quietly and Doc Ock lowered Peter down onto the bed, drawing the comforter over him. He ran a hand through Peter's hair comfortingly before apologizing once again, "I'm sorry Peter, I didn't want to do it this way... but get some sleep, you'll feel better in the morning." With that said, the doctor left Peter alone in the darkness of his room, neon lights still skittering across the floor and Peter closed his eyes against them, seeing them on the backs of his eyelids as he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He didn't wake till morning, sunlight now replacing the neon lights on his floor. He rubbed at his eyes, blinking blearily at his room when his gaze fell to the vase besides his bed. The two flowers Mysterio first gave him sat in there but now a third joined it. A black rose, tilted towards Peter's bed, as if to greet him.

He wracked his brain trying to remember when Mysterio had given him that one but nothing came to mind. 

He must've snuck in last night to put it in the vase. 

Why would Beck do that?

The sudden remembrance of Mysterio's real name shot like a live wire through Peter's system, startling him. The events from the previous night came crashing down on him and his body shivered as he suddenly felt cold.

He looked at the black rose, feeling hollow, as he thought about Beck and Adrian's conversation.

About what they wanted him to do. 

He laid in bed, thinking what he should do with the information. If he should do anything.

He needed more time to think and plan, and he needed more details about their plan.

The routine that Peter had easily fallen into the past few days was forgotten as he left his room, bypassing the kitchen where Martin was preparing breakfast, calling to Peter confused, as he went to the couch where Vulture was drinking his morning coffee. 

Adrian looked up to him, surprised to see him there, and before he could put his cup down Peter spoke.

"Do you want to play chess with me? I heard you're a good player."

Adrian's face twisted in amusement and a light entered his eyes at the suggestion. 

"Sure, Peter. We can play chess today."

Peter smiled and asked, "Can we play after lunch?"

Adrian nodded, smiling as well, and Peter turned around to go to the kitchen island to sit in his usual seat next to Rhino. 

He ate his breakfast, thinking of the Spiderman plushie sitting on his bed, and thought back to the days when he was Spiderman. The days when he was confident and strong. But most importantly the days he was _smart_.

He would need Spiderman as he prepared for his match with Adrian.

He would need to be confident and smart once again if he hoped to gather any information on his family, and what the Sinister Six had planned for him in the coming days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter!
> 
> At the beginning of this chapter Electro says the line, "It's brick out." for those who may not know, this is a NY expression, it just means it's really cold out. Just wanted to clarify in case that was confusing for anyone!


	19. The Charge of a Star

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to say that I know absolutely NOTHING about chess. 
> 
> I don't know the rules despite having watched Queens Gambit. My main take away from the show was the outfits were the best part and if that doesn't say enough about me I don't know what will.
> 
> So I want to apologize in advance for any chess inaccuracies and please please please feel free to correct me. 
> 
> If this were checkers I'd be good... why didn't I just make this match a checkers one...

_"This is the excellent foppery of the world, that, when we are sick in fortune,--often the surfeit of our own behavior,--we make guilty of our disasters the sun, the moon, and the stars: as if we were villains by necessity; fools by heavenly compulsion; knaves, thieves, and treachers, by spherical predominance; drunkards, liars, and adulterers, by an enforced obedience of planetary influence; and all that we are evil in, by a divine thrusting on: an admirable evasion of whoremaster man, to lay his goatish disposition to the charge of a star."_ \- Shakespeare, King Lear

Sunlight filtered in through the large window, lazily capturing the room in a brilliance that felt like a sin not to notice. The chess board on the coffee table caught most of the brilliant light and almost seemed to glow as the centerpiece of the room. Peter sat cross legged on one of the couches, thinking about his next move. The cushions were soft and plush, and Peter idly wondered if he should take a nap on it one day, when he wasn't playing chess against a man that almost killed him on more than one occasion.

Adrian sat across from him on an identical couch, somehow looking amused and serious, simultaneously, as he watched Peter advance one of his pawns. 

"I'm surprised at your playing style." He commented, as he moved one of his rooks, capturing one of Peter's pawns in the process. "You play much more defensive than I would've thought."

Peter stared at the board, frowning, thinking of his next move, as he mulled over Vulture's words. "The best offense is a good defense." Peter answered, moving his knight out of harm's way, and settling back against the cushions as Adrian thought the play over.

"Yes, that has been said about a million times," Toomes teased, shooting Peter a smirk as he brought his queen out. 

"But doesn't that further prove my point?" Peter asked, contemplating how he should respond to Toome's queen being in play. "If it's been said a bunch then there must be some truth to it."

"Hmm, sometimes. But that's a philosophical debate for another day." Adrian chuckled, waiting on Peter to finish his turn.

Peter looked to his white pieces, far fewer in number compared to Adrian's black pieces, and knew he was in for a rough match. He was rusty at chess, not even remembering the last time he properly played, but he knew it was when Uncle Ben was still alive. He had been the one to teach Peter chess and took him to Astoria Park on Sundays to play with other New Yorkers. He had actually gotten quite good at the game, over the years under Uncle Ben's tutelage, and was considering joining the school's chess team.

That was before Uncle Ben's murder, of course. After... he couldn't even look at a chess board. It just didn't feel right to continue on with the game without his uncle, and so he ended up joining the decathlon team instead, which he never had any regrets about. He never would've met Ned or MJ if he hadn't joined. 

Although he could've done without meeting Flash Thompson.

Bruce was big on playing chess and had asked Peter a number of times if he'd like to play, but he had always declined. Still not ready to look at a chess board and picture his uncle sitting across from him, smile as warm as the sun on their backs in Astoria Park. He didn't know if he'd ever be ready to play again.

But now, as he played with someone that reminded him nothing of his uncle, he wished he had taken Bruce up on his offer back then.

He wondered if there would be time in the future to do so.

He moved his rook sideways, capturing one of the black pawns, and moving the piece off the chess board. Adrian frowned slightly at the move and raised his finger to his lips, thinking intently on how he should respond. 

"When did you start playing?" Peter asked, bringing his knees up to his chin, hugging them close to his body.

"Hmm, when I was a child," Vulture said. "My father taught me how to play, I've been playing ever since."

Peter watched Toomes, who was pursing his lips and mumbling under his breath. "Do you still play with your dad?" 

Vulture's eyes raised from the board to look at Peter. His eyes were so similar to Peter's own, hazel and deep. But the crow's feet around them gave his age away, crinkling as he looked back down to the board. "My father passed a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," Peter winced, feeling guilty for asking. 

Adrian moved his queen again, taking one of Peter's knights in the process. "Don't be, it's been a long time now. My father was... not a good man," He leaned back into the couch, eyes looking somewhat pained. "So I don't miss him much when I think of him."

"Oh," was all Peter said, not knowing how to respond. He never really thought about the Sinister Six and their families, and what their relationships were like with them. He never gave much thought to any of the people he fought, at least not on that kind of level before.

He didn't move from his position, thinking on Vulture's words, and not realizing it was his turn. 

"Who taught you how to play chess?" He asked the teenager, and motioned towards the board. Peter put his feet to the floor, leaning towards the coffee table as he looked over his options. 

"My... my uncle taught me." Peter said, not lifting his eyes off the chess board. Not wanting to see Vulture's reaction. Uncle Ben hadn't been mentioned by any of the Sinister Six since Doc Ock first locked Peter in the room. Since he told him the truth about Ben.

They hadn't talked about it further, and now it hung in the air, heavy and loaded. An invisible weight, waiting to see if it would be dropped or eased.

"He taught you well, you have a good mind for the game." Vulture said kindly, and when Peter finally looked up at him he was smiling. It was small but genuine, and his normally dark hazel eyes looked lighter in the sunlight, flecks of brown speckled across his iris.

"I'm pretty rusty, you're definitely going to beat me," Peter laughed quietly, glad to be off the topic of Ben. He swallowed around the lump in his throat, and the air felt lighter at the switch in conversation. 

Toomes chuckled, "You never know until someone says checkmate."

That was true. Chess was a game full of variables and so many options. Even a game where it looked like defeat was inevitable could be turned around, could be saved. As long as one was smart enough to see the path.

Peter wasn't sure he was.

But for the game itself, he wanted to lose. Wanted to lure Vulture into a false sense of superiority, as he played his own game of chess with the man, unknowingly. He wanted to see how much information he could extract from him.

He only had to be smart enough to see this path, and right now he could see it through the thicket. He just had to get a bit closer before he could step on it.

"Do you play with anyone else here? Like Mysterio?" Peter questioned as he made his move, moving his own queen out onto the board as well.

Adrian snorted, amusement lining his features, some of the seriousness from the gameplay now gone. "Mysterio? I doubt that man even knows how to play checkers."

"He... he's eccentric, but I think he's smart." Peter said, drawing his legs back up onto the couch. 

"If Maxwell could hear you say that he'd have a fit," Vulture shook his head, eyes fixed to the board. "The man grates on him as you know."

Peter smiled at that, thinking of the way Electro flared up at anything Mysterio said. "Yeah, I know. He does it on purpose I think.... he likes to rile him up."

Adrian glanced up from the board, noticing the smile on Peter's face, and his own fell. "And you? Does he grate on you as well?"

Peter noticed the attention, feeling the path beneath his feet now, and the possibilities opening up. "I mean, he can be a bit much, but I'm used to that from him. I think he's weird, but like in a good way."

"Mmm," Adrian mused, advancing his queen now, right in placement to take Peter's king next turn. "Check."

Peter uncurled from the couch, looking to the board, knowing he needed some more time. He started to look for escape routes for his king and possible counterattacks as Vulture commented, "You two seem to be getting along rather well these days."

It was true, Peter did spend a lot of time with the man, finding his presence refreshing compared to the rest of the Sinister Six. Mysterio felt like the only person not guarding his words and thoughts from Peter, he felt like the only truly honest person in his life right now.

But after hearing the man speak with Adrian last night in the same office he resided in now, it made Peter question all of that. Hearing Mysterio sounding so normal gave Peter pause. Was he putting on a show for Peter? Were the rest of the Sinister Six in on it?

He couldn't help but feel saddened by the idea. He had grown fond of the man in a strange way during his time in the apartment. Peter didn't quite trust him, his Spidey Sense constantly warning him of something wrong with Mysterio, but he would be lying if he said Mysterio didn't bring him some kind of odd comfort during his captivity.

He wondered, too, if his Spidey Sense was just flaring because of Mysterio's personality, trying to warn him it wasn't actually real. That it was all an act.

But part of him didn't believe that either. He could've had a rare moment of seriousness with Vulture, while discussing their plan of action. Peter didn't know him well enough to say one way or the other.

He hoped that Mysterio wasn't playing him, but he wouldn't bank on it either. He would have to be more vigilant around him from now on.

He didn't have to let Toomes know his conflicting feelings though, he answered carefully as he started to sow the seeds of division amongst them. 

"I... yeah, he's fun ya know?" Peter shrugged. "He's goofy and harmless."

"Harmless?" Adrian's eyes narrowed, game forgotten temporarily. "I wouldn't say he's harmless."

"But he's just so... I dunno. Like he bought me a Spiderman plushie." Peter said, blushing at the memory. "He just seems sincere."

Vulture leaned forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at Peter, serious nature back once again. "Peter, you shouldn't trust that man. He may seem benign but that man is not _harmless_."

Peter blew a stray curl away in frustration. "Then why are we here, in his apartment? I thought you guys trusted him-"

"That is not a topic I will discuss with you," Adrian cut him off, warning clear in his tone, not to push the topic. "That man has almost killed you more than once, you shouldn't forget that."

"But so have you... and you want me to trust you," He said quietly, sitting back further into the couch. 

Toomes sighed, dragging a hand down his ragged face. "Yes, but it's different-"

"How is it different?" Peter interrupted. 

Vulture looked frustrated as he continued, "It just is-"

"-But I don't understand-"

"-It's different because our intentio- _my_ intentions are clear. Mysterio's are not-"

"-He's been nothing but nice to me though, I don't understand why-"

"-Mysterio is nice when he wants to be," Vulture snapped, eyes dark and threatening. "The moment something no longer suits him or he isn't interested are when things go to shit. I have known him for a long time, Peter, so I know who he is. He is not your friend."

Peter chewed at his bottom lip, worriedly. "Is he yours?"

"What?" Adrian asked, sharply.

"Your friend?"

Toomes paused, leaning back into the couch, the shadows casting him in darkness. "No, he isn't my friend."

The tension in the room heightened and Peter looked to the board, still glittering in the sunlight and finally deciding to make his move. He leaned forward and moved his bishop to capture Adrian's queen. The sound of the chess pieces moving the only one in the room. He placed the queen on the coffee table and looked up to Vulture, some fear in his eyes. 

"Should I be worried about him then?"

Vulture's demeanor seemed to relax as his eyes softened and he said with conviction. "Absolutely not. We wouldn't have brought you here if we thought you wouldn't be safe. I... I got caught up in some emotions, Mysterio and I have our... disagreements for sure," He winced at the statement. "But I know him well, Peter, there's no reason for you to worry about him at all. I promise... And what you said earlier, he is sincere in his fondness for you, I didn't mean to take that away. I just want you to be cautious is all. He is, as you said, eccentric, and impulsive. I just don't want you to get hurt if he decides to leave."

"Leave?" Peter asked, confused. "He wants to leave?"

"No... but Mysterio is a wanderer of sorts. He never stays too long in one place, it's only a matter of time until he's gone once again. He'll reappear when it suits him though." Adrian explained, looking increasingly uncomfortable with the topic as it continued. 

"What will happen when he leaves? Will we stay here?" Peter could feel his words getting to Vulture, making him question their arrangement with Mysterio. He only hoped that it would make him start to question the plan he had concocted with the man the night before.

"That is something you shouldn't concern yourself over." He smiled softly, not even needing to think about his next move as he moved his rook into check. He didn't need to say it as Peter's attention was entirely on the man. "We'll always be together no matter what."

Peter's heart ached at the statement and he wasn't quite sure why. He couldn't tell what kind of ache it was and it perturbed him, but he turned his attention back to the board, looking for any way out of the check. 

"Your nightmare the other night, what was it about?" 

Peter moved one of his pawns, completely out of ideas on how to keep the game going, and succumbing to defeat more quickly than he wanted.

"I don't remember... I just woke up startled." He answered honestly, curling back up on the couch, burying his head in the crook of his arms raised over his knees, so only his eyes were peeking out.

"Hmm," Adrian moved his rook and took Peter's king. His smile was humorous as he said, "Checkmate."

"I told you I was rusty," Peter murmured, pretending to be annoyed at losing the match. 

Vulture chuckled, starting to put the pieces and board away. "You did well, we can play again another time. I have no doubt you'll beat me one day."

Peter looked him in the eyes, and said, "I hope so," meaning it in more ways than one.

Adrian had bid him farewell after the match and Peter bypassed a sleeping Scorpion on the couch to make his way to the library. The doctor was no where to be seen, and Peter was grateful for the lack of another presence in the room.

He grabbed his book off the side table next to the day bed and made his way up the spiral staircase. He settled into the cushions and pillows, drawing his knees up, as he laid on his side, book propped open in one of his hands. 

He started to read but found his mind wandering instead of absorbing the words on the pages. 

The lack of information about the Sinister Six's plan weighed heavy on him. He had meant to see if he could get Vulture talking about it or the drones in some way, but the moment he started playing chess with him he knew that wasn't going to happen, and it was too risky to press him on it. Adrian was more guarded than the other members of the Sinister Six, and seemed the most composed out of all of them. He wished it had been Scorpion or Electro talking with Mysterio instead. It would've been too easy to get information from them.

He decided to take a different tactic, one that was less likely to get him caught. 

He opted to try and make the others distrustful of Mysterio, more so than they have been already. Peter had noticed, of course, that they would never let him be alone with Beck. He was always accompanied by another member of the Sinister Six. He saw the way their eyes narrowed, and their shoulders hunched anytime Peter shared a moment with Mysterio. Especially if Mysterio made him laugh.

They really didn't like that.

Even though it was painfully obvious that none of them trusted the man, especially not with Peter, they still decided to stay in Beck's apartment.

And Peter knew there had to be a reason for that. Something that Beck was either holding over them or providing them, and he thought back to the camera lens sitting on the workshop table, looking at him as if it had always been watching.

He was close to figuring it out, close to seeing the full picture, but he needed some more pieces before he could finish the puzzle. And he had to find a way to find those pieces, and quick.

Despite his mind reeling, the coziness of the reading nook was dragging him down and the arm holding his book soon went limp and his eyes closed, as he fell into a light slumber.

Peter stirred, though, as he felt a presence next to him and his eyes opened fully as someone poked his forehead. 

"Petey? Are you sleeping?" 

Peter rubbed at his eyes tiredly, seeing his own reflection in Mysterio's dome, looking bleary-eyed and sleepy.

"I was," He grumbled, his mouth dry and his teeth in desperate need of brushing.

"If you nap too long you won't be able to sleep tonight, I should know! I never sleep through the night," Mysterio laughed, as he sat opposite the hero, cross legged on the floor, looking more child-like than normal.

"Why don't you sleep?" Peter asked, pulling himself into a similar sitting position, still nestled amongst the cushions and pillows.

"Hmmm... I think it's because I have too many thoughts, ya know? Like too many ideas!" Beck said, putting a finger to his dome and tapping it. "Geniuses don't sleep, it's a fact!" he laughed again, loud and harsh in the quiet of the library.

Peter thought of Tony and how little the man slept, always in his lab working on something, and he had to agree with Mysterio's statement about geniuses not sleeping.

Peter smirked as he said jokingly, "Oh so you're a self-certified genius now, huh?"

"Don't sound so surprised Petey!" Mysterio wagged a finger in his face. "I've always been a genius, you've just been too busy chasing after me to notice!"

"I didn't chase after you. I only came when you were robbing banks or hypnotizing people or trying to steal-"

"Yes, so chasing me! Spidey always chased me everywhere, it was so scary. Always following me, always trying to catch me! You were frightening Petey," Mysterio threw a hand over his head dramatically, pretending to faint.

Peter spluttered, cheeks turning red. "I-I didn't follow you! I was just trying to stop you!"

Mysterio ignored him. "Well now you no longer have to chase me! Who would've thought that you'd be my honored guest now and can see my genius up close." He withdrew another flower from his sleeve and handed it to Peter. It was a daisy this time and smelt fresh, like it had just been cut.

Peter took it and rolled his eyes, "Right... your genius up close. Tell me, what is your _genius_ exactly?"

Mysterio thought for a moment before answering and jumping to his feet suddenly. He twirled around, his cape almost smacking Peter in the face as it swished through the air. "You're looking at it! I got this place by using my big ol' brain!"

Peter answered deadpanned, "What? You hired a good real estate agent?"

"What? No!" Mysterio shouted, somehow seeming flustered and Peter laughed as he sat back down. "I didn't use a real estate agent, I don't work with devils ya know!"

"How did you get this place then?"

Mysterio leaned in close and whispered as if he were telling Peter a secret. "I tricked the people living here to give it to me."

Peter swallowed, feeling apprehensive as he asked, "What do you mean?"

Mysterio leaned back, resting his dome on one of his hands as he seemed to gaze into Peter's very soul. He shivered despite himself. "I convinced the people living here to hand me the keys and take their leave. They were more than happy to do so."

"Why would they do that?" He felt like he didn't want to hear the answer to the question, but he wanted to know. Wanted to know so he could remind himself of the person Mysterio is. What he was capable of.

He needed to remember that these men were still his enemies. And the idea of that had shriveled in his mind, had become so small that it scared Peter that he didn't think of it. Didn't always tell himself who they were. 

He had to remind himself. Had to remember.

Just like Vulture said, Mysterio is not your friend.

None of them are.

"I tricked them into thinking ghosts were haunting this place."

Peter blinked.

And a fit of laughter overtook him as he covered his mouth, body shaking from it. He laughed in between his fingers as Mysterio beamed at him, laughing along with him. 

"Ghosts??" Peter asked in between spurts of laughter. "They fell for that?"

"Oh yeah! People are willing to believe anything, as long as you make it convincing enough!" Beck explained. "They thought I was a ghost hunter and I told them I would let them know when it was safe to return, after I got rid of the ghosts."

"Oh my god," Peter cried, tears collecting in the corners of his eyes as he thought of Mysterio dressed up in a Ghostbuster's uniform with his dome on, explaining to some rich family they had ghosts in their apartment. The image was sending him into an absolute fit and he couldn't collect himself.

He was wiping tears as he gasped for breath, his chest hurting from laughing so much. 

He must've been loud enough to hear, as Rhino stepped into the room, looking up to the two in the loft, wary of Mysterio being alone with Peter.

"Little Spider, are you okay?" Aleksei asked, fully stepping into the room, body tense as he looked to Mysterio.

"I... yeah... I just.... I'm fine," Peter said, still giggling and wheezing to get the words out. Rhino looked at him curiously, surprised at the state he was in. He had never seen Peter laughing so hard before, never seen him look so happy and amused. Anger flitted through him briefly as his eyes strayed to Mysterio.

"It is time for dinner, little one, come down and join us." Rhino said and left the room, leaving the door open on his way out.

"Let's go eat, Petey!" Mysterio said, jumping up but stopped his descent down the stairs as Peter called out to him, "Wait! How did you trick them though? I gotta know the full story."

Mysterio's hand rested on the railing, looking back at Peter. "I used my illusions of course! They work like a charm every time."

"No, I mean... like what kind of illusions? How did you convince them there were ghosts?" Peter asked, wiping at his face, still smiling. But it fell as his Spidey Sense burned bright and hot behind his eyes. Mysterio walked over to him, his aura changed from the lighthearted one just moments ago. It felt dark and stifling and Peter backed away at the feeling engulfing the room.

He bent down, crouching in front of Peter, and a chill ran up his spine at the look.

"I forgot how clever you can be Spidey," His voice still held the humor from before, but there was a coldness to it now. "I'll have to remember that when I talk with you."

The daisy felt like it was wilting in his hands at Beck's words, and Peter felt himself deflate along with it. "Mysterio?"

A hand came up and Peter flinched but the man simply laid it tenderly on Peter's face, the leather of the glove cool to the touch. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you. You're still my favorite guest."

They stayed there like that for a moment, Peter's heart pounding in his ears, throat constricted, and fear prickling over his skin, feeling like needles dancing across his skin. It felt like the moment was hanging, and Peter could only equate it to the moment when you jump off a rooftop and time seems to stop as your body hangs in the air, heart in your throat and the moment of regret seeming so palpable you could almost taste it. Then time moves forward and the descent becomes quick and forthcoming.

And then it's all over.

The moment ended, Mysterio withdrew his hand and leapt to his feet, heading to the stairs. "Let's eat! I'm starving!" He bounded down the stairs and his cape swished out the library door as he headed for the kitchen.

Peter sat there, hand trembling as it touched the spot on his cheek where Mysterio's had been a moment earlier and he thought back to what Vulture said, _"Mysterio is nice when he wants to be...He is not your friend."_

He steadied his breathing before standing up and making his own way to the kitchen, the daisy forgotten on the cushions, laying next to the book he had been unable to read that day. Peter turned the lights off and the library went dark, silent once again. No more laughter echoing along its walls.

\------------------------------------------------------

Peter ate dinner as usual, although feeling rattled still from the encounter with Mysterio. The man, for all pretenses, acted exactly the same and still talked with Peter as if nothing had happened. He played along as best he could but he tried talking with him as little as possible, instead trying to start conversations with Scorpion and Electro. He knew once they got going they never stopped, and being surrounded by voices other than Beck's appealed to him greatly in the moment.

Dinner finished and Martin begin clearing the dishes. Normally Peter would sit on the couch with the others as the looked for something to watch, but he wanted to be as far away from Mysterio as possible so he made his way over to the kitchen and asked Martin, "Can I help?"

Martin looked pleasantly surprised at the offer and said, "Sure, I appreciate it."

Martin took on the washing part and Peter was in charge of drying the dishes and returning them to their respective cabinets and drawers.

The chatter in the living room served as a backdrop for both men as they cleaned, and the duo fell into a comfortable rhythm. 

Peter's mind was preoccupied with Mysterio and his behavior earlier, but Martin's voice cut through those thoughts as he questioned, "How did your game with Adrian go?"

Peter looked up from the dishtowel in his hand. "I lost so not well."

Martin laughed softly, handing Peter a wet plate to dry. "Adrian is quite impressive at it, I've never beaten him either."

"Do you play then?" Peter asked as he walked over to a cabinet, standing on his tip toes to return the plate to the shelf.

"I play sometimes, I don't have much interest in the game though, if I'm being honest." Martin answered, his hands coming up covered in suds as he reached for a different sponge.

"Then why do you play?"

Martin handed him another clean dish and Peter got to work on drying it as the man explained. "I did it, because a lot of the people I was surrounded by enjoyed playing, and I wanted to help them in any way I could."

"At F.E.A.S.T, right?" Peter questioned and Martin nodded. His mouth narrowed into a straight line and his eyes looked pinched, as if it was painful to think of the homeless shelter he used to run.

They were quiet for a bit, finishing up the last of the dishes, before Peter spoke. "You know... I used to volunteer at F.E.A.S.T."

Martin stopped scrubbing, looking to Peter wide-eyed, shocked at the revelation. "I... I don't remember you being there."

Peter looked away, feeling embarrassed but he elaborated. "I wasn't there as often as I wanted to be, mainly cause of Spiderman duties, but I tried to go whenever I could. We... we met before..." He stopped, not needing to say anything further. They both knew what before meant.

Martin looked ashamed, mouth tight and eyes tormented. Peter knew how much F.E.A.S.T meant to him before he became Mr. Negative, he guess he didn't realize how much it still meant to him.

"I'm sorry, Peter. I wish I remembered meeting you... a lot of my memories from that time are... uh, scattered if you will." Martin explained, returning to the dishes, facing away from Peter. 

"It's okay, I understand." He said, and meant it. He knew Martin was not entirely in control as Mr. Negative, was not quite the same person when he switched, and that must have done a number on his mind. He could see the difference in the Martin Li he knew, and Mr. Negative, the villain he fought tooth and nail to protect New York from. It was such a stark difference and it filled him with guilt that he could do nothing to help the man. He still didn't know how to help him.

"You told me... that kids like me are the future of the city," Peter mumbled, his cheeks turning pink. "I always remembered that even when... everything happened."

Martin shut the water off, hands gripping the edge of the sink tightly, hair falling in his eyes. He took a minute to pull himself together, before handing Peter the final dish to dry. 

"I don't remember that time, but I'm glad I said something that stuck with you. I wish we could've met under different circumstances, truly, but I'm grateful for the time we've had together." Martin said and turned to Peter fully. He looked tired, and troubled, but his eyes shone bright in earnestness. "You are an exceptional person, Peter, and I feel fortunate to know you."

Peter's blush deepened and he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I um... it's been nice g-getting to know you, too." He was surprised that he meant it and gave Martin a small smile to show his own candor. The man's smile returned, pleasant as always and he ruffled Peter's hair affectionately.

"Thank you for helping me with the dishes. Would you like a cup of tea? I'll put a pot on."

Peter nodded and scurried away as Martin turned to fill the kettle with water. He made his way to the couch, to his usual spot, and Aleksei was sitting, waiting for him.

"Ah Peter, Mac has decided on a movie," Octavius said as Peter settled onto the couch, tucked into the corner. "He wants to watch 21 Jump Street."

"That's a good one," Peter said, grinning at Mac. "It's kind of like Brooklyn Nine Nine." Scorpion returned the grin with his own, "Yeah that's why I picked it kid! Figured you would like it."

"So it's decided then." Doc Ock said and started the movie.

Martin came over, steaming cup in his hand, and gave it to Peter five minutes into the movie. He thanked the man and settled in further, nursing his tea. 

The chamomile sat nicely in his stomach, warming his body and calming his mind. He finished the tea quickly, placed the empty mug on the coffee table and curled up on the couch. The room was loud with chatter and laughter at the film and Peter felt as content as he could be. Rhino's hand was absentmindedly running through Peter's hair and he was starting to nod off, eyes closing for longer periods of time the more he tried to fight sleep.

He was about to fall asleep for real when his eyes opened one last time, and caught the eyes of all the men watching him. His Spidey Sense hummed, and he tried cracking open his eyes wider. 

A strange thought gripped him as they looked quickly away from him and back to the tv. 

Were they waiting for him to fall asleep?

Rhino placed a small throw blanket over Peter as he continued his ministrations. And despite his Spidey Sense buzzing he found he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer and he closed them for real. His breathing evened out and the last thing he heard was the tv being shut off.

\-----------------------------------------

Peter awoke on the couch and was disoriented by the location. He rubbed at his eyes, letting them adjust to the low lighting of the room. The city lights of Manhattan lit the living room in an iridescent glow and it was the only source of light in the room. He sat up on the couch, the throw blanket from earlier falling to the floor as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. 

He normally fell asleep on the couch but would wake up in his room in the morning. He assumed the men would just move him after the movie finished, but this time the tv was dark and no one was left in the living room. 

He stood up, confused at waking in the dark, rationalizing that they probably just left him asleep on the couch as they adjourned for the night. He made to move towards his room when the soft lilt of voices stopped him. They were coming closer and without thinking, he laid back down on the couch, and pulled the throw blanket back over him. He closed his eyes and evened his breathing as the voices came into the room. 

"I'm not thrilled with this, Adrian," Martin whispered. "This could be devastating for him-"

"I know..." Vulture sighed. "I'm not thrilled with it, either. But Mysterio seems certain this could work."

"It may very well work but we're going to damage our relationship with Peter if we go though with it, this will be a setback." Martin argued, voice hissing. "You've seen the way he's been with us recently. He's finally feeling comfortable and not fighting back. We've been waiting for this, it seems foolish to throw that away now."

"I have the same fears," Adrian said, tone conceding but his words unwavering. "But if they figure us out then our time with him would have been meaningless anyways. They'll just take him back, and I don't know if we would ever get the chance to save him again... I'm not going to let him go... are you Martin?"

Both men were quiet and Peter was unsure of Mr. Negative's answer as they left the room, heading back down towards the hallway with the office. 

Peter's heart was in his throat as he carefully opened his eyes, making sure no one was in the room still. He could hear more noise now coming from the direction both villains headed towards and his gut was telling him that whatever plan they had in mind was going down tonight. 

And Peter was involved in it.

The apartment that once felt huge, now felt like the room. The walls seemed to be closing in on him with no way of escaping.

He thought of Daredevil begging him to run. Begging till blood spilled from his mouth, howling like a wolf to the full moon. Wanting nothing more than for Peter to be free.

He wished now he had listened to the man.

He got up from the couch and turned down the other hall, away from the voices. His legs were trembling as panic seized him. He had no where to run, no where to go. He stood in the hallway, frozen, and breath ragged as he thought about what he could do. The door at the end of the hallway that led to the balcony taunted him. Teased him.

It couldn't be that easy, could it?

He moved quietly, feet padding on the marble floor as he reached the glass door, pushing on the handle. The door wouldn't budge. He pulled on it, just to be sure he wasn't one of those people that pushed instead of pulled, but the door didn't move. It was locked.

The glass didn't seem to be that thick, Peter could break it. But then what? Where could he go? He was in a skyscraper, on what seemed like the top floor. 

He could try climbing down but Vulture could reach him before he'd be able to do that.

He needed his web shooters if he was going to escape that way. 

He didn't know if they even still had them, it was entirely possible the Sinister Six had destroyed them and his suit as well. It would be the smart thing to do.

But they were Peter's only option, his only way of escaping now. He had to try and find them, and the only place they could be was in Octavius' room.

He went to the door, eyes constantly on the other hallway, looking for any sign of movement. He reached for the handle and met the same problem as the door to the balcony. It was locked. He pushed on it, using his enhanced strength and the metal snapped under his grip. He heard a clatter as the handle on the other side of the door fell to the ground and he pushed the door open quickly, slipping inside, and shutting it just as quietly.

Octavius' room looked no different than the others Peter had seen. There was a king sized bed pressed up against a marble accent wall. Two nightstands were placed on either side of the bed, and a desk and dresser were set up against an opposite wall. Octavius' room was slightly larger than Peter's and had two tufted chairs with a small coffee table placed between them, looking out the wall of windows to the glittering lights of Central Park. 

Despite the lights of the outside world illuminating Doc Ock's room, it wasn't enough to see everything, but Peter didn't dare turn on a lamp as he started to go through the drawers, searching desperately for his web shooters.

He tore through clothes and one drawer filled entirely with playing cards, which was not doubt Mysterio's handy work, but he couldn't feel the familiar metal of his web shooters as he made his way through. He went to the desk next, going through papers, skimming through them briefly. He saw his name written a couple of times but he didn't have time to snoop through the doctor's notes. He had to find his web shooters and get out of there.

The desk held nothing and he made his way over to the nightstand when the sound of approaching footsteps had him dropping to the floor. He crouched behind the bed, listening as the footsteps stopped at the door before Octavius' room. They walked into his room and he used the moment to slip out. He couldn't be caught in Doc Ock's room. Couldn't be caught disobeying. A small whimper fell past his lips as he thought of the last time he had disobeyed, and what that had meant for him. 

He couldn't do that again.

He moved into the library, searching wildly for _anything_ that could help him escape. A vent in particular would be ideal, but he already knew none were in the room. He started moving books off the shelves, wildly hoping one would be the switch to a secret room. Mysterio was someone who would definitely have a secret room, and the man loved his cliches. A secret room in a library was legit his only solution to his predicament.

And in another time he would've laughed at it, would've laughed at himself for how absolutely ridiculous the notion was. But panic was gripping him so tight that he didn't even care how much of a fool's errand it was. He had to try.

He had to try something before they got to him.

Footsteps were right outside and Peter stopped. He leapt into the air, catching the railing of the loft and hauled himself over just in time as the door opened. He flattened himself as low as he could, hoping the pillows and cushions could conceal him from whoever just walked in.

"Peter? Are you in here?" Martin's voice filled the space, sounding strained and breathless. He moved inside, his body starting to glow, but the man was fighting against it and the light flickered like a candle in the wind.

He knew he couldn't stay hidden for long if Martin lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. There would be no place to hide.

His time had run out, there was only one option left.

Appealing to Martin's better side.

"Mr. Li?" Peter called from the loft, peering over the edge. Martin whirled around and relief shot through him as the light died out. "Oh Peter, we couldn't find you, we were worried that..." He stopped, not wanting to finish his sentence, swallowing his words instead. 

"Are you okay? Why are you up there?" He asked instead.

Peter had to chose his words carefully, had to say the right thing to pull at Martin's heartstrings. He only hoped he had enough tact to do so. "I know something is going on, something involving me."

Peter couldn't see Martin's expression as he was backlit by the glow of Manhattan but the man seemed apologetic as he replied, "Peter... I need you to come down."

"Can you tell me what's going on?" He asked, voice pleading.

Martin tensed slightly. "I will if you come down, I promise."

Peter really didn't want to come down but he couldn't stay up there forever, and he didn't want to anger the man. Not right now anyways. He needed to keep the conversation flowing and an irate Martin Li would not accomplish that. He stood up and made his way down the spiral staircase, he kept his distance from Martin though. 

"Please tell me," He said, voice so small he wasn't sure Martin heard him at first but the man tensed further, hands balling into fists at his side as he answered, "We need you to make a call to the Avengers."

Peter couldn't help his breath from hitching at hearing it again, official and confirmed for him. They wanted him to talk to the Avengers. To talk with his family again.

But why?

"... I don't understand," He confessed, taking a step back as Martin took one forward. The man seemed to realize this and took two steps back as an apology, not trying to scare the hero.

"It's... it's complicated. You don't have to do anything. We'll handle everything. You just have to be on the call with Dr. Octavius." Martin's voice came out clipped.

"But why would you want me to see them? I-I thought you didn't want me to-"

"I- _we_ don't." Martin interrupted. "But it's necessary to keep you safe. I promise, we're only doing this for that purpose."

"T-this feels like a trap," Peter admitted, swallowing thickly. "Like you're setting me up for a punishment."

"No _no_ ," Martin said harshly, crossing the threshold towards Peter but the teenager moved further back, dancing out of Martin's reach. He stopped his movements as they switched positions, with Peter now backlit by the city lights. "It's nothing like that, I swear. You won't be able to say anything, Doctor Octavius will do all the talking."

"Why won't I be able to say anything? Are you gonna duct tape my mouth or something-" Before Peter could react Martin reached him and was gripping him by the shoulders, tight enough to be uncomfortable but Peter said nothing about it as the man looked unhinged, eyes wide and hair falling in front of his eyes.

"No, the doctor is going to give you something. It'll help relax you, we're not going to hurt you-"

Peter quivered in the villain's hold and said shrilly, "No no no no. Please Mr. Li! I don't want to be drugged. P-please, I-I'll be good I swear. P-please don't do this to me."

Martin's eyes brimmed with emotion but he held firm onto Peter's shoulders, "Peter I swear this will be over quickly. I know this is difficult-"

But Peter wasn't listening as tears spilled from his eyes and he was shaking his head adamantly, begging Martin not to do this to him. Not to drug him again, to leave him feeling less of himself once again. To strip him of who he was, to force his family to see him like that.

His heart broke as he thought of their reactions to seeing him in some kind of trance-like state, unresponsive and unfeeling.

He didn't want them to see him like that. Didn't want to be responsible for unraveling them.

The door opened to the library and Octavius stepped in, goggles reflecting the lights and somehow looking more sinister than normal. Peter's sobs deepened and Martin held him as his protests grew louder.

Panic clawed up his spine, settling at the base of his skull as his Spidey Sense blared, warning him to run. He pushed Martin away from, utilizing his strength, and backed up towards the window further, shaking terribly.

"I told you to bring him to me," Otto whispered to Martin but Peter heard it clear as day. "You telling him is just going to make this harder on him."

Martin said nothing, as his eyes never left Peter's. They were filled with anguish, but no determination to do anything about it.

Peter had been unable to sway him.

"P-please Doctor Octavius, I-I won't say anything, I swear... P-please don't drug me." Peter begged, tears still trekking down his face, glinting like silver in the light. 

The doctor's expression softened and he said, "Peter, I'm sorry... this is the only way though."

"No no no no," Peter rambled, another sob tearing from his throat. He looked around wildly for any escape route, any way out of this nightmare. His eyes landed on the railing of the loft again, hoping he could make that jump but as he braced his legs one of Otto's mechanical arms shot forward and wrapped around Peter's wrist, keeping him in place.

He wailed in the grasp, fighting against the hold, using his free arm to try and rip Octavius' arm away. The arm started to drag him towards Doc Ock and Peter cried further. "Please, please! Please don't do this to me!"

He threw his body weight backwards, digging his heels into the ground and he heard Otto grunt at the unexpected resistance. His expression twisted and another arm shot out, wrapping around Peter's waist. It pulled with the other arm and Peter was unable to hold out against it and his feet burned against the wooden floor as he still resisted the movement.

"Stop! Please, Mr. Li! Help me," Peter cried, looking desperately to the man. Martin stood there, pale in the moonlight and expression haunted as he watched on, horrified.

With one final tug Peter was thrust into Doc Ock's arms, held in place by the mechanical ones and his face was shoved against the doctor's chest. He held his breath, not wanting to breath in the drug that he knew was on the doctor's skin, whatever kind of fragrance he made that affected Peter the way it did. He had no doubt the doctor modified it, made it more potent so that Peter's thoughts would not truly be his own the moment he inhaled the drug.

"You'll have to breathe sometime," Otto said, not sounding happy about the situation. "It's better to just give in, Peter."

But he persisted, trying to wiggle his way out but his arms were trapped by his side, held down by both the doctors human arms and his robotic ones. His vision was spotting and his lungs burned, begging for relief. He squeezed his eyes shut and with it the last of his tears as his lungs finally gave in and he gasped for air.

Warm honey overtook his senses and immediately Peter's body relaxed completely. With each breath he took his mind fogged over and an emptiness took its place. The doctors hold lessened as he held Peter up, pulling back to look into his eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Peter, I truly am. I didn't want to do this." He said, but Peter couldn't even comprehend the emotion behind his voice. He couldn't comprehend much of anything as he felt like he was floating, like he was no longer in his body. 

Every thought in his head slipped away and he was left with an emptiness that felt better than it should. He wrapped his arms around the doctor's neck to help keep him upright and didn't complain as Otto lifted him up and carried him out of the library. The doctor's body heat felt nice against his clammy skin and he snuggled against him letting out a content sigh. 

He rolled his head to look up to Octavius' face and mumbled, "Can I sleep now?"

"Not yet, very soon though. I promise."

Peter buried his head back down, breathing in more of the scent, allowing it to fill him up, making him feel so amenable and pleasant. He was brought to the office and sat on the couch he had occupied earlier in the day. The rest of the Sinister Six, save Martin Li, and Mysterio were in there as they stood off to the side, looking at Peter with troubled expressions.

"How is he?" Electro asked, twisting his hands nervously in his lap.

"He's doing okay," Octavius replied, kneeling down in front of Peter and rubbing his face with a damp washcloth. "The sooner we get this over with the better. The drugs will start to fade within half an hour."

"We're ready when you are," Vulture answered, as he fiddled with something in the air. Although Peter couldn't see it and he furrowed his brows in confusion. His attention was diverted again though as Otto came into his view, hands holding either side of his face and looking serious.

"This will be quick okay, I just need you to stay awake. Can you do that for me?" Otto asked and Peter nodded, smiling. The hands on his face emitted more warmth and made him sink further into the haze. 

The doctor smiled, and ran a hand lovingly through Peter's hair. "Good boy."

He stood and turned to his team, looking to each member pointedly, and said with a finality, "Call them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this one! Lemme know your thoughts ^^


	20. Give Sorrow Words

_"Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break._ \- Shakespeare, Macbeth

Tony straightened his jacket, bracing himself for a conversation he was not itching to have. The sound of heels clicking on the linoleum floor resounding throughout the hallway, echoing along the walls, as Tony followed the woman making said sound. They turned a corner, coming before a large wooden door, standing out against the chrome of the hallway and the woman paused before it, turning around to face him.

"Mr. Osborn is right through here, sir." She said, gesturing to the door handle. Tony gave a curt nod, said his thanks as she walked away, heels clicking against the floor once again. He waited until the sound of her shoes faded before opening the door.

The room Norman Osborn sat in was even more grand than his facility. The floor was tiled with a black marble accentuated with gold veins skipping across it, feeling like the run off of a watercolor painting. A painted portrait of Norman and his family hung behind the cherry oak desk, situated in a gold frame with a lion's head sitting at the very top, its eyes replaced with rubies as it seemed to almost watch Tony as he strode across the room. The entire back wall was made entirely of windows, looking out to the rest of Wall Street, bustling and energetic during the work day. A large conference table was placed to the left of Norman's desk, its metallic sheen clean enough to reflect the overhead chandeliers in its visage. To the right of the desk was a luxurious green velvet sofa, draped in animal hides, a tiger's being the most distinguishing of the set. A wall of masks stood to the right of the sofa, hanging over the beautiful black marble fireplace, lit and roaring, washing the room in an orange glow.

Anyone walking into the room would be awed by the extravagance of it all, but Tony was not anyone.

Norman had the tackiest taste he had ever seen. It really should be a crime to call this interior design.

But thoughts of interior design aside, Tony's focus was on the man himself, who sat behind his cherry desk, writing something down and only glancing up at Tony's presence once he was finished. A smug glean entered the man's cobalt eyes and Tony had to fight the urge to roll his eyes. 

Dealing with Norman Osborn was always a pain in the ass.

"Tony Stark, it's a pleasure to see you," Norman said, his voice smooth as silk. He waved a hand to a chair right in front of the desk, beckoning Tony to sit. Tony moved forward, ignoring the chair, and stood right before the desk. Not giving Norman the courtesy of sitting.

The man's smile widened, but he said nothing at Tony's slight against him.

"I would say likewise, Norman, but then I'd be lying. And I rather not be a liar."

Norma's features twisted, the smile overtaking the rest of his face and Tony could've sworn that some of his teeth looked pointed, like they had been sharpened, but before he could get a better look at them, Osborn closed his mouth. 

"Well, I'll just say the pleasure is mine then to have you come see me. I will say though, I'm quite surprised you're doing so. Last time we spoke, we certainly did not leave things on the best of terms."

That was an understatement. The last time they had spoken ended with Tony threatening Norman. The man had somehow put two and two together that Peter's powers came from one of his experiments and had asked to meet Spiderman, to see if they could form a relationship of sorts. When Tony had asked what he meant by that, Osborn had been cryptic, not saying much more than wanting to meet the man who had benefited from his science. Tony could see past the bullshit, could see the scheming behind Norman's wide blue eyes and had declined to introduce them. And when Norman had become insistent, looking more manic than Tony knew him to be, he had called forward the Ironman suit, leaving it on standby as he told Norman it would be a cold day in hell before he let him within a 100 yards of Spiderman, let alone shake his hand. He had threatened him that if he tried anything Tony wouldn't hesitate. Wouldn't hesitate to end the man's career and his livelihood. He had enough dirt on him to send him to prison for life if he wanted, enough sway with the right authorities that Norman Osborn's influence and power would mean nothing in the face of it. Norman was livid, seething through his yellow teeth that he would regret threatening him, but despite all the posterity and threats of his own, Norman backed off. For weeks after Tony had turned the tracker on in Peter's suit, having F.R.I.D.A.Y alert him if anything suspicious happened, but thankfully nothing did. He asked the kid if he had run into anybody asking questions about his powers and Peter was confused.

"Should I be expecting someone to ask me, Mr. Stark?" 

Tony had sighed at the question and waved it away, "No, underoos. I just wanted to remind you not to talk about that kind of thing with strangers is all." Peter had laughed and said with a shit-eating grin, "Okay I won't talk to strangers, I'll just take candy from them instead." Tony had grumbled about snarky little shits and Peter had run off before the man could yell at him, laughing down the hall.

Peter never told him if anyone approached him, and his tracker never went near Oscorp. The closest it got was during a fight with the Green Goblin when he had attacked a technology company in Wall Street, which was easily explained. The Green Goblin was known for hitting different technology companies so the proximity to Oscorp was understandable.

Tony certainly did not expect to be speaking to Norman Osborn again after their last discussion, and it hurt his pride in so many ways to be doing so, but he came with Peter in mind, and his pride meant nothing in the face of that.

"I didn't come to fight Norman, I've come to ask you some questions about your tech." Tony said, holding his hands behind his back, tight enough to hurt.

Osborn's eyebrow raised, looking puzzled for a second. "My technology? That's not what I thought you were coming to talk to me about." Norman said, getting up from his desk and heading towards the bar cart besides the sofa. He poured himself and Tony a glass of whiskey. "I thought you came to talk about Spiderman."

Tony's gritted his teeth, rage flashing in his dark eyes. "Why would I talk with you about Spiderman?" He pushed his fingernails into his palms, letting the pain ground him.

"Because he is missing, no?" Norman asked, crossing the floor and handing the crystal glass to Tony. He shook his head, and Osborn shrugged, placing it on the desk. He moved back to his chair, enjoying his own glass. "I thought you would want my help in finding him."

"I told you before I wouldn't let you within a hundred yards of-"

"Yes, but that was before, wasn't it?" Norman interrupted, smirking behind the crystal, his mouth looking distorted in its refracted reflection. "Things are different now, it's been weeks since he was last spotted. Last seen with you, correct? It must be devastating to be missing one of your fellow Avengers, and to lose them right under your nose... tragic."

Tony was shaking, rage encircling him, rooting him to the spot. He wanted to take the glass of whiskey and smash it in Norman's face, replacing that smug look with one of fear.

But he couldn't let his emotions control him, not now. Daredevil's words circled in his head, reminding him to be a man worthy to be Peter's mentor. He needed information from Osborn and smashing a glass in his face was probably not the best way to get it.

Would be the most satisfying way though.

"I didn't come here for that, I need to know if any of your tech can cause illusions." Tony said, tone calm but his eyes betrayed him. The look he was giving Norman would send any normal man running away in absolute terror, but Norman was no normal man and the look in Stark's eyes excited him.

"Illusions? What do you mean by that?" He asked, taking another sip of his drink.

"I'm not quite sure myself, but anything like projections or maybe a kind of drug that can cause people to mass hallucinate the same thing? Anything like that." Tony explained, hating the position he was put in. To come to a man, an enemy no less, with little information and sway. It was not a good position to be in.

"We have tech that can project holograms, sure. But I believe you have that as well, so I don't see your interest in mine, unless you're trying to scout out the competition-"

"The fact you believe I think of you as competition is laughable and pathetic," Tony snapped. "I wouldn't come to you, personally, if I wanted to one up you."

Norman's eyes narrowed, his mirth from before gone at the insult. "Then why are you here, Stark? Why waste your time talking to someone so _pathetic_ when you have more pressing matters at hand."

Tony sighed, trying to collect himself. He couldn't mess this up, couldn't let his anger get the better of him. He was doing this for Peter. He had to keep telling himself that.

For Peter.

For Peter.

For Peter.

Fuck, this still sucked.

He took a breath, calming himself, before continuing. "I do have more pressing matters... and this concerns those matters. I apologize, Norman. I came here on good intentions, truly."

Osborn looked Tony over, his smile gone, but the scowl lifted from his face. He eased back into his chair, considering Ironman's words. 

"Hmm... what concerns do you have over this _illusion_ tech, as you called it?" He asked, lacing his fingers together and placing his chin atop of them.

"The Avengers believe someone is aiding the Sinister Six with this kind of tech, or ability, to cause others to see things that are not there. I'm going around to every technology company I can think of to ask them about it, if anything has been stolen recently, any new hires that are acting out of turn. Anything to help us pinpoint what's happening." Tony explained, feeling deflated as he thought about their situation.

They had tracked down almost every known enemy of Spiderman and interrogated them into revealing anything they knew about the Sinister Six or the illusions. None of them had anything to say, except some choice words about Spiderman's disappearance, which never ended well for them. So far, every lead had been a dead end and some of Spiderman's villains hadn't been found at all. 

Hell, Tony had even sought out Deadpool at one point to ask him if he had heard of anything. The merc had just gotten back from an overseas mission and wasn't even aware of Spiderman's disappearance. Tony knew from Peter that Deadpool was fond of Spiderman, but he didn't know the extent of it until he talked with the man. The normally chatty man was quiet as Ironman explained the situation, and asked him to keep an ear out for any information that could help them locate the Sinister Six. Deadpool had promised to do so, and didn't even say goodbye to Tony as he slunk off into the shadows of an alley. Tony had yet to hear from him, but he had heard from Clint that the underlings of the Sinister Six were turning up in front of police precincts, restrained and beaten within an inch of their life. The most shocking part of that was the men were still alive, knowing how much the merc liked to kill. He remembered Peter telling him that he had convinced Deadpool not to kill people if he didn't have to, and when Tony had asked him how he managed that Peter had smiled and said, "I told him he couldn't be the president of my fan club anymore if he killed people." It seemed like Deadpool had stayed true to his word to Peter, and remained the president of New York's Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman fan club.

Waiting on information from Deadpool wasn't going to cut it though, and Tony decided to chase down this lead in a different way. He would go to the source.

Oscorp should've been first on his list of tech companies but he had put it off, hoping that someone else could point him in the right direction. Could help him find what he was looking for.

It had all been fruitless though and he found himself, throwing on a suit, and calling Happy to drive him to Wall Street to visit the last person he wanted to see, especially now. But Norman was his last hope, the last chance he had of figuring out what was going on with these illusions, and if in fact they really were from some kind of tech and not a superpower. Tech could be traced. Superpowers? Well that was more complicated.

"Can you explain more about these illusions?" Norman asked, standing from his chair and facing the windows, looking down to the crowds of people below.

"About a week ago a vigilante encountered Electro down near Hell's Kitchen, but at the same time he fought with the man, there was a sighting of Electro on the upper west side, causing some destruction. Many civilians gave the same eye witness testimony, swearing that Electro was the one attacking their area." Tony elaborated.

"So he was in two places at once? Does he have that ability?" Norman asked, turning slightly to gaze at Stark.

"It's a possibility, since he can travel between electrical waves. But there's never been reports of this before, we're not sure if he's capable of making two human forms. We have doubts he can do that." 

Osborn hummed to himself, "Yes, it does seem unlikely... so it seems there was some trickery at play, then?"

Tony nodded. "That's what we think, and we suspect someone is helping them with this, we're just trying to figure out the who and how."

"Why, would be a better place to start," Norman mused. "If someone is helping the Sinister Six shouldn't you be asking yourself why?"

"There are too many variables," Tony scowled. "It will take too long to figure that out."

"Yes, but it may lead you to the answers you seek more sufficiently rather than chasing down _what if's_ -"

"I don't remember asking you for your opinion on how I should do my job." Tony snapped, lips curled in a snarl, anger coiling within him. 

Osborn put his hands up in defeat, an impish smile on his face. "Ah sorry sorry, just trying to be helpful... after all, it's what I'm known for."

Stark said nothing, eyes narrowed into slits and teeth clenched behind pursed lips. He was trying to keep it together, trying to be calm and collected but Norman Osborn always had to play the bastard, always had to get under your skin. Tony would like to say he didn't let the man, but that would be a lie and a big one at that. The man was constantly under his skin, like a parasite worming its way through his system, and each time he had to look into Norman's eyes he felt sick. Like the parasite was getting closer to sucking him dry. He hated dealing with the man, and he hated having to deal with him even more so now. Especially when it counted.

"I'll look into the tech, Stark," Norman said, picking up his glass and finishing his whiskey in a long sip. "I'll let you know if I find or hear anything. I'd like to amend our relationship if possible, and I hope this is a step in the right direction."

"If you help me with this Norman, consider our issues dealt with." Tony said, not fully meaning it. He would never completely trust the man, and he still would never let him anywhere near Peter, but Tony could curb his hostility if Norman came through on this.

Osborn smiled, wide and toothy. "That's wonderful news. I'll start looking into this immediately."

Tony thanked him and turned to leave but Norman's voice halted his movements, "Tell me though Stark... do the Sinister Six have Spiderman? Is that why you're going through all of this trouble?"

He said nothing to the man and walked out the door, letting the heavy wooden door slam shut on his way out.

Norman sat back in his chair, his smile even wider than before and he reached for the untouched glass he offered Stark, bringing the liquid amber to his lips and drinking steadily. Stark's silence had said everything he needed to know. 

He thought of the conversation and the illusion of Electro. He had his suspicions on what was happening, and the only question was who was using his tech?

His sharp eyes narrowed as he looked off to his wall of masks, the fire seeming to grow brighter under his gaze, and the shadows bouncing off the walls grew longer. 

A voice whispered in the recesses of his mind and a maniacal cackle fell past his lips.

He was close to meeting Spiderman properly after all.

\------------------------------

Tony stood outside of the medical wing, palms feeling clammy and goosebumps bristled up his arms. He didn't know why he felt so nervous going to see Daredevil, but he knew he had avoided the man long enough since Steve first told them he was awake. It had been a few days and he felt like he owed Daredevil a chat.

A chat about what he wasn't entirely sure, but the last time they had properly spoken was weighing heavy on Tony, writhing and churning in his gut, and he knew they needed to address some things.

It was one thing to know, but another to want. God he wished he had taken that drink from Norman after all.

He pushed open the door, walking down the hallway briskly and soon found himself standing in front of Daredevil's suite. He didn't give himself a chance to turn back as he hastily pushed open the door, only to come face to face with the man attempting a handstand in the middle of the room and the only thing Tony could think was, _"Thank god he's not wearing a hospital gown."_

Daredevil grunted as he pushed himself forward, flipping onto his feet, and landing a bit roughly, his face was slick with sweat and his eyes unfocused as he turned to face Tony.

"Stark... I wasn't expecting you."

"Clearly," Tony grimaced. "Should you be doing that? Bruce told me you're on strict bed rest."

Daredevil sighed but did go and sit on the edge of his hospital bed, attempting to placate Tony. "Dr. Banner means well but I won't be able to fight if I don't train. I promise I won't reopen any of my stitches if you're worried about that."

"I mean, that is a partial worry, yes." Tony ran a hand through his hair. "But also worried about you pushing yourself too soon."

"I know my limits," Daredevil said calmly. "I won't go past them."

"That's uh... good," Tony said awkwardly, shifting on his feet. The air between them felt strange, like there wasn't enough to breathe and Tony could feel himself growing jittery, antsy to either have some kind of noise in the room or to leave it entirely. He never was good at apologizing, at least sincerely apologizing, especially to a man he didn't know that well.

"Are there any updates? Dr. Banner has told me about the illusion technology... or power, he wasn't sure which one it was." Daredevil asked, looking at Tony earnestly. 

Tony rubbed the back of his neck, not liking that he didn't have many updates. "Not really, I'm reaching out to technology companies to see if they can help me but so far nothing has turned up. Bruce is back at the warehouse site now, trying to see if he can pick up on any frequencies, but he hasn't reported in yet."

Daredevil nodded, lowering his head. The awkward silence entrenched the room again and Tony fiddled with his hands, keeping his body moving as his mind came up blank on what to say to the man. He knew he oughta apologize, say how Daredevil had been right about him. About his emotions. He just didn't want to hear it at the time, especially from someone like him, but the words died on the tip of his tongue, and his throat felt dry. A part of him thought enough time had passed where he didn't need to address the conversation, enough events had happened where it really shouldn't be on the forefront of either of their minds, but Tony thought about it often. He thought about it the night he had carried Daredevil through the skies of New York, glittering in silver and red. He thought about it the minute Steve told him the man was awake. He thought it about it every day after he didn't visit him. 

Had thought of how much of a coward he was. Scared to issue a simple apology.

And he thought Norman was pathetic...

"I've been meaning to talk to you, Stark." Daredevil said quietly, slowly lifting his head, his eyes dark and hooded. 

"I have as well," Tony winced. 

Daredevil nodded. "Well, we have some things to discuss, but before we get into it I just wanted to thank you."

"Thank me?" Tony asked, incredulous. "For what?"

Daredevil blinked, dumbfounded. "For saving my life..."

"Oh."

Tony felt heat rise to his cheeks, embarrassed that he honestly forgot about giving the man CPR on the deck of the tower. He didn't know if the CPR actually kept him alive or not till the doctors arrived, but it definitely didn't make Daredevil any worse. 

"You don't need to thank me for that-" Tony started but was interrupted. "-I know I don't... but I want to. If you hadn't come for me, I wouldn't be here right now..." Daredevil trailed off, looking embarrassed himself, coughing into his fist. "My friends told me I should thank you... told me I'd be a dick if I didn't."

Tony smiled at that. "I need some friends like that."

Matt returned the smile with his own. "They keep me honest at the very least."

"I still stand by that you don't need to thank me, I'd be a dick if I let you die." Tony said, chuckling lightly.

Daredevil paused, his grin turning into a smirk. "Yeah that would be a pretty dick move."

They both laughed softly until Daredevil grew serious once again, looking up to Tony. "But in all seriousness, I know we have our issues...but you saved my life. I'm forever grateful to you for that."

Tony didn't comment on it, not knowing what to add, just gave a slight nod and looked away, rubbing his arm. 

"Speaking of our issues... that's why I came down to talk with you. I feel like where we ended last is not the place I want to leave it at," Tony said, finally gathering the courage to do what he set out to do. Apologize for being an ass.

Daredevil said nothing, realizing Stark needed to sort through his thoughts to get everything together he wanted to express, but he gave the man his full attention.

"You... you were right... that night. I was a detriment to the team. My emotions were getting the better of me, if I had been where you were that night, I-I... don't know what I would've done. I could've driven Peter further away from us." Tony cringed, trying not to imagine how he would've handled the situation instead. What he would've done to Doc Ock right in front of Peter. What Peter would think of him. He couldn't think about that right now.

"The things I said to you were out of line, and I should've come to you the moment I found out you were training Peter. I should've talked with you about it.... but I didn't. I let things fester within myself and I didn't handle it the way it should've been handled." Tony confessed, feeling the weight lift from his gut but butterflies enter the now empty space, making him feeling anxious.

"I could've handled a lot of things better in hindsight... I don't know you well, Daredevil, but from what I can see you're a good man, and you've taught Spiderman well. You've helped him in ways I couldn't and I'm forever grateful for that." Tony didn't actually say the words, _"I'm sorry,"_ but he felt like they were said in a way. He didn't know if he could actually bring himself to say them, especially as he was still working through his own feelings on the matter, but he hoped Daredevil could hear it in his tone. Hear that Tony was remorseful and was trying to extend an olive branch.

Daredevil was quiet, processing Tony's words, and he swallowed before speaking. "I could've handled things better as well... I wanted Peter to keep our training a secret from you because of my own issues and insecurities and I just ended up hurting him, and causing further tension between us." He took a breath, running a hand through his sweaty hair. "I was trying to teach Spiderman how to accept responsibility, and I never did so myself. Hypocritical all things considering." Matt let out a mirthless laugh, hanging his head in shame.

"It seems we both let the kid down in some ways," Tony said, finally taking a seat in the chair next to Daredevil's bed. Matt snorted at the comment, "It seems we have."

Both men were silent for a while, thinking about where they now stood with one another. What their relationship would look like going forward, once Peter was back with them. It would be easy to fall back into old ways, to go back to being distrustful and jealous of one another. 

Neither was sure if that was destined to happen or not.

"I still have my trepidations about being here," Daredevil said, his voice no more above a whisper. "But I want to be able to work together... for now at least."

Tony smiled at that, "I want that too... we can always go back to our regularly scheduled program after we rescue Spiderman." Matt laughed for real at that and replied, "Sounds like a plan."

Tony stood to leave but paused as he remembered something. "Oh... I know you might not believe me, and you have your reasons not to, but I just wanted to let you know your identity is safe. I didn't look you up, and I swear no one else here has."

Daredevil looked shocked at that, mouth hanging open for a moment, before he snapped it shut. "Can I ask why you didn't? I know you've been wanting to know."

Tony took a breath and let the smallest smile grace his lips. "I knew if I did that you would never trust me, and that just didn't sit right with me."

Daredevil let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and allowed himself to smile as well. "I would say thanks but that is the exact bare minimum you could do to earn my trust."

Tony laughed, loud and sincere, and gave a wave as he walked out. "Get some rest, and don't tear open those stitches."

He let the door close softly behind on his way out, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

His and Daredevil's relationship was by no means completely repaired, but it felt like some mending had happened and it was the only thing giving Tony hope for a non tumultuous relationship with the man going forward.

Daredevil was an important part of Spiderman's life and Tony wanted to be apart of Peter's life, in every way he could. So he would learn to deal with the jealousy, with the distrust, with the anger. Learn to deal with all the negative emotions and be a better man for Peter. And by the way Daredevil talked about it, he wanted to do the same.

Both of them could grow. And perhaps together they could save Peter Parker.

Tony just hoped that was the truth, as he finally headed off to bed, ready to sleep for the first time in days.

\---------------------------------------

He felt like he hadn't even had a chance to fully close his eyes before F.R.I.D.A.Y chimed in his ear. 

"Boss, there's a transmission coming in."

Tony opened his eyes blearily, and despite thinking he had just fallen asleep, the alarm clock on his bed told him otherwise. It was around 3:30 in the morning, he had been asleep for about four hours at that point.

"Whasstha FRI?" Tony slurred, wiping some drool from his mouth as he rolled over, throwing his legs off the bed.

"Boss, a transmission is coming through... it's them." She said, and the AI sounded nervous.

The exhaustion he was feeling was swept suddenly from his body like a wave crashing over him, and all of his nerves were on fire as he leapt from his bed, running to the living room.

"Call the rest of the team, and trace the call as best you can FRI." Tony barked, sprinting to the living room now. "Yes, boss." F.R.I.D.A.Y answered and went quiet after that.

Tony rounded a corner, almost tripping over his feet as he skidded around it and bounded into the living room, not surprised to see Natasha already there, and dressed in her Black Widow getup no less. She was standing in the kitchen, eyes sharp and body tense as she looked to Tony.

"Record the call, Tony, even if you can't trace it. I want to be able to watch it back." She said, voice low and deadly. He could tell she was nervous, by the way she clenched her arms as she crossed them but he didn't comment on it as he nodded, knowing F.R.I.D.A.Y already heard the command.

Steve and Sam came in a second later, looking actually nervous in comparison to Natasha. Both men were in their pajamas, just like Tony, simple pajama bottoms and t-shirts and Tony wished they had all changed, just to look more intimidating. To look more powerful. But there was no time for that.

Bruce, Clint, and Bucky ran in, looking disheveled. Clearly all three men had just been asleep moments before as their hair was tossed and the bags under their eyes looked more ghastly in the dim lighting of the living room.

Everyone situated themselves in the living room with Bruce, Sam, and Natasha sitting down and the rest of the team opting to stand as they looked to the screen in front of them.

Everyone seemed to be in agreement as they gave a terse nod around the group and Tony spoke, "F.R.I.D.A.Y patch it through."

The screen lit up, its blue light washing the Avengers in a ghostly glow and Tony's heart caught in his throat at the sight of Peter right before him.

The kid looked out of it. His eyes were glassy and heavy and he looked at them, almost as if he didn't see them. His skin looked paler and his cheeks sallow, as if he had lost some weight. His dark brown curls had gotten longer and were hanging in front of his eyes now. He didn't look terribly different than the last time Tony had seen him, but the look in his eyes opened a hole in Tony's heart. The way that he didn't seem to be _there_ ate at him and stole his breath away. He didn't look different, but everything about him in that moment was. The Peter Tony thought of resembled nothing to the Peter before him now.

"Peter?" His name fell out of Tony's mouth involuntarily, and came out as a gasp as he inadvertently took a step forward, moving as if he was going to touch him.

Peter looked over to him briefly, confusion flitting onto his face as he mumbled out, "Mr. Stark?" He looked like he wanted to say more but a man came to block their view of Peter, kneeling before the boy, brushing a hand through his hair and saying something to him quietly. The man shifted after a moment, moving to stand behind Peter and Doc Ock's goggles glinted dangerously in the moonlight.

"Hello, Avengers." He said tersely, his hands on Peter's shoulders, placed there as if to comfort the boy but Tony didn't interpret it that way.

It was there on purpose, to show the Avengers that Peter was no longer theirs.

That Peter belonged to the Sinister Six now, and Tony's stomach twisted into knots.

"Peter!" Bruce almost cried, his voice trembling. "Peter, can you hear us?"

Peter said nothing as one of Octavius' hands lifted to the side of his face and Peter closed his eyes against it, a content smile sliding onto his features. Tony's hands shook at his side, vibrating intensely as white hot rage pounded through him at it. 

"He won't answer you, not unless I want him to," Octavius explained cooly. 

"What the fuck did you give him?" Clint spat, walking up to the screen, fury carrying his every step. "The fuck did you do to him?"

Doc Ock centered his gaze on Hawkeye, frowning at the question. "What I do with him is of no concern to you-"

"The _fuck_ it isn't!" Sam yelled, moving to stand besides Clint. "How the fuck are we supposed to not be concerned when you're drugging a child!"

"You didn't seem concerned he was a child when you had him aide you in battle." Octavius retaliated, his grip on Peter tightening slightly and Peter's smile fell at the feeling, but he didn't move out of the doctor's hold. "Weren't concerned for his well being and safety then, so I don't care for your feelings on it now." He finished, his expression growing icy and Peter opened his eyes at it, gazing at the doctor curiously, eyes still clouded. 

"How do we know that's even Spiderman?" Natasha asked, tone even. Her eyes bore into the screen, the edge of them frightening even Tony as he looked to her. "What's to say this isn't a trick of some kind?"

The doctor smiled, wicked and cruel. "You're finally asking the right questions Black Widow." He moved to whisper into Peter's ear and Peter blinked up at him. The doctor gave him a reassuring smile and Peter turned to the camera, confusion on his face as he thought.

"I... Mr. Stark..." 

Tony's heart leapt as Peter's eyes seemed to be searching for him on screen. He ran up to it, centering himself for Peter to see better. "Peter, I'm here." He breathed out, pulse racing and heart breaking at Peter's almost vacant expression.

"I... I n-need the suit... af-afterall." Peter looked hopeless as he said it and Tony's heart shattered into a million pieces, scattering and scattering until he was sure he could never put it back together.

A single tear slid down Peter's cheek and the doctor wiped it away hastily, murmuring something else in Peter's ear and the teenager shuddered at it. A hand wound in his hair and Peter relaxed against the touch, face looking peaceful once again. 

"Does that mean something to you, Stark?" Octavius asked.

Tony thought back to the ferry incident, when he had confronted Peter on the rooftop. Had told him how he didn't deserve the Spiderman suit and Peter had begged him not to take it away, to take away the one thing that made him special. And Tony had told him in an attempt to help the boy, "If you're nothing without that suit then you shouldn't have it." And he had taken it from him, left Peter without any protection as he fought against Vulture. The fight he almost lost his life in, all to save some of the Avenger's old tech. 

And Tony had never told Peter how much that incident tore him up, how wrong he had been to leave Peter vulnerable like that. How he had been so angry with him that he didn't listen to him about Vulture, not fully anyways. 

How his own inability to mentor had almost cost Peter his life.

He never told the kid he was sorry. 

Tony stood there, in front of the screen, shell shocked, eyes so wide they felt like they would pop out of his skull and the shaking of his hands from earlier, now overtook his whole body. 

He felt like he would wither away into dust as he looked to Peter, who gazed off now, eyes even glassier then before as Octavius soothed the kid, brushing back his hair in a rhythmic pattern and looking to Tony as if he had just won the lottery.

"Clearly it did." Otto smirked, and Tony nearly lunged at the TV, but Steve grabbed him around back, dragging him behind the couch again. 

"Don't let Peter see you like this," Steve hissed in his ear and Tony stopped at that. "He needs us right now, Tony."

Steve held him for a moment as Tony calmed his breathing and urged the shaking to cease. He took deep breaths, not caring if he looked foolish, and without a word Steve released him when he knew he was good. 

"Is that something only you and Peter would know, Stark?" Octavius pressed, needing Tony to give him a clear answer. To prove that the Peter before them wasn't an illusion but the actual Spiderman in the flesh.

Tony was sure that Peter had told his friends about the incident, and Happy was also aware of it, but other than that no one should know. Let alone the Sinister Six in an attempt to dupe them. That was definitely Peter before them and Tony didn't trust his voice in the moment so he gave a nod instead, letting his team know the truth.

Their faces fell and Natasha's grew more steely, her eyes never wavering from Octavius' face.

"Good, now that that question has been dealt with. We can move on." Otto said, standing taller.

"Why have you called us?" Bucky asked, fists clenched so tight that Tony was sure the Winter Solider was hurting himself. "What are your intentions with Peter?"

Octavius was about to answer when Peter stirred at Bucky's voice.

"Bucky..." He looked, eyes squinting at the screen. Bucky looked over to him in surprise, emotion clear on his face at the state Peter was in, and Tony realized that the way Peter was behaving must remind him of his time with Hydra, when he had been drugged and tortured, brainwashed into doing their bidding.

"I'm s-sorry... I-I don't wanna be-" Peter was silenced as Otto moved his hands to cup Peter's face, turning him to look directly at him. He whispered to him, trying to calm him, but Peter's eyes welled with tears and the doctor went to sit down next to the boy, allowing Peter to bury his head in the crook of his neck and wrap his arms around the man's torso. The man's hand went back to running through Peter's hair, trying to help quell his tears.

"Apologies, it seems you have stirred some emotions in him, Winter Solider." Otto explained, still smiling as Peter started to relax against him. 

Bucky looked stricken as he sat there, and Steve's own comforting hand fell open his shoulder, trying to keep his friend together. 

"Peter!" Bruce called out to him again, ignoring Octavius entirely. "Peter, please talk to us!" 

Peter turned his head, looking back at the camera but the glassiness was back and he looked drowsy as he still held onto the doctor, although his hands had slackened their hold a bit.

"You demand so much of him," The doctor looked like he wanted to cackle. "The boy is tired, you should let him rest."

" _Fuck you!_ " Sam yelled, Clint's grip on his elbow being the only thing from keeping him back. "We're going to find you, you sadistic fuck. How dare you touch him-"

"What I do with him is of no concern to you, as I've said before." Doc Ock was smirking, his grin so wide it looked like it might break his face. "I don't see him complaining, or did you all decide to ignore how he initiated the physical contact?"

"He's drugged," Steve said. "He's not in his right state of mind."

The doctor hummed with the statement but his grin didn't waver. "That may be true, but he never shies away from us when we give him physical affection. He's clearly been missing it in his life before."

To further illustrate his point he pulled Peter closer to him, running long fingers through his hair more soothingly. Peter practically melted into it and tightened his grip on the doctor once more. "Peter, be honest. Do you like this?" He asked the boy and Tony felt his blood run cold as Peter smiled softly and muttered out a yes. 

The doctor turned back to the camera, smugness written all over his expression and Tony saw red. 

"I'm going to find you, and you're going to wish I'd kill you when I'm through with you." He felt like he was vibrating at a frequency only the Hulk would understand. His entire body felt like a live wire, explosive and deadly. 

Octavius looked at him, a sneer on his face. "I'd return the sentiment, _Stark_ , but then I'd be debasing myself to a failure like you."

Tony was about to unleash a string of curses and threats unlike anything he had ever done before when the doctor tilted his head to the right of the camera, looking off to something.

"I think that's enough show and tell, for now. Say goodbye to Peter. It's the last you'll see of him." Otto announced, and Peter opened his eyes to look to the camera. emotion palpable in them. He opened his mouth but before he could get the words out the transmission suddenly cut, and the screen faded to black, leaving the Avengers standing there staring at their own horrified expressions.

The room was quiet until F.R.I.D.A.Y's voice came down over the speaker.

"Boss, I was almost able to trace the transmission but they cut if off before I was able to ping the exact location."

Tony didn't even know it was possible for the room to deflate any further but it did at those words. Everyone looked absolutely desolate and Natasha broke through the anguish first. "F.R.I.D.A.Y were you able to get anything from that transmission? Did you record it?"

"Yes, Ms. Romanoff, I recorded it. I was unable to confirm the exact location but I was able to get a general one. The transmission came from New York City, they did not leave the area yet. Mr. Parker is close." 

The team looked at each, in defeat and hope. The room was a tough read, everyone's emotions all over the place at seeing Peter. At seeing Peter in that state.

It was like seeing a ghost of someone you once knew, never the exact image you remembered of them.

"Bucky... why was he apologizing to you?" Bruce asked, looking possibly the worse for wear out of all of them after the transmission. 

Bucky clenched his jaw, looking pointedly at the floor so that he didn't have to look anyone in the eye. Steve squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and the Winter Solider let out a shaky breath as he answered, "I've told Peter some things about my time before..." He didn't elaborate on before, they all knew what it meant. "He knows my feelings on drugs, I... I think he was apologizing for having me see him in that state. Something he knows would trigger me."

Bruce sucked in a breath and the air in the room seemed to go with it. No one dared breath until Steve said quietly, "He pushed through Buck... he pushed through for you."

"He's still fighting," Natasha added, and stood from the couch, a fire in her eyes.

"I'm going to review the footage, look for anything that will point to their location. Another pair of eyes would be helpful." She said and Clint moved immediately besides her. "Let's do it."

Clint made to leave but Natasha looked once more to her team and said with a ferocity Tony had never heard from her, "We're going to find him, and we'll make those fuckers pay. Don't lose sight of what needs to be done."

With that said she turned on her heel and Clint followed, out of sight in mere seconds.

The rest of them sat there, hearts and minds heavy and even with Natasha's conviction circling his mind, Tony felt hollow.

He found himself back on that rooftop, anger in every motion as he looked down upon Peter. Upon a child just wanting to prove himself to him, and told him he didn't deserve the suit. Didn't deserve Tony's help.

How Peter looked so small in his shadow, so terrified of being _nothing_.

And Tony didn't have any sympathy for him. Didn't even think twice about his decision.

His father was right. Dr. Octavius was right.

He was a failure.

In every conceivable way.

And he continued to fail Peter every day he didn't find him.

He wanted to have the same conviction as Nat, the same fire igniting her. The same hope the rest of the team had.

But all he could feel in that moment was a sorrow so profound that it left him light-headed. He sat on the couch, staring at his expression in the black screen, and a tear slid down his cheek to match Peter's.

Silent and steady.

A grief he was all too familiar encased him and for once he allowed himself to succumb. 

He let his failure place a hand on his shoulder and pull him down to the depths. 

He deserved it after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Lemme know your thoughts ^^


	21. Scrawled Black

_“Backward we traveled to reclaim the day; Before we fell, like Icarus, undone; All we find are altars in decay; And profane words scrawled black across the sun."_ \- Sylvia Plath, Doom of the Exiles

The camera light shut off and Peter blinked at the absence of it, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room once more, now only lit by the iridescence of the moon, lingering in the inky sky as if it were watching over him. The Sinister Six and Mysterio moved about the room, talking with one another in hushed tones and Peter knew he ought to try and listen, should try and remember the words of his enemies, but the fog was still settled over his mind, like the morning haze over lakes in farmlands. Settled and unmoving.

He could feel the rise and fall of the doctor's chest beneath his cheek and the motion was lulling him to sleep, falling further down into the fog. He was blinking now against it, eyes lazily trying to remain open as he watched his captors discuss the call amongst themselves. The hand in his hair had stilled, but remained a comforting presence, the doctor's chest was rumbling now as he answered one of the men's questions and Peter's eyes slid closed.

"Stark looked unwell, much more disheveled than I would've thought."

Tony's eyes, panicked and red, sat on the backs of Peter's eyelids and he opened them, startled at the image. 

"I think what the kid said got to him," Electro said, glancing down at Peter with a twinge of guilt. And more images broke through the fog.

Natasha's jaw clenched, hair almost listless against her sharp jawline, as her nails dug into her palms.

Sam and Clint's bodies shaking in anger, so much anger. So much that it frightened him to look at them.

Steve's arms bulging as he held someone back, strength apparent in strained muscles.

Bruce calling for him, mouth wide and desperate, as tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

Bucky looking at him, tortured and with so much sorrow, that he had to speak... had to say something.

Mr. Stark saying his name as if it was the only name in the world that mattered, his face questioning and hopeful at the sight of him and how every second that passed the hope melted away, dripping between fingers, until the only thing left was the absence of it. Brown eyes red, so red, that he thought of Daredevil in that moment and the heartbreak he had managed to put away for days now came back resounding and fast.

Peter's arm dropped from the doctor's waist and he moved to sit up. The fog was dissipating and rapidly, the room before him was coming in sharp and focused and the harrowed faces of his enemies became clear as a picture.

"Peter, are you okay?" Octavius asked, as his hand fell away from his head and his goggles reflected the moon, eerie in its capture of it. 

He didn't answer as he tried to stand, feeling clammy and unsteady, like the world was shifting out from under him. He stumbled as he stood and Rhino's hand shot forward, catching him just in time before he fell. His grip was strong and unwavering, but not uncomfortable.

"Kid?" Scorpion asked, standing himself, although he winced as he attempted to put weight on his bad leg. 

Peter knew his breathing was harsh and ragged and his curls fell in front of his face as he looked to the floor, trying to clear his head. Trying to will the haze away for good, as the voices of the Avengers pounded in his skull, and the weight of the situation was falling on Peter, feeling like it could crush him if he relented for even a second.

"I'm sure that was upsetting for you," Adrian spoke up, crouching before him, his eyes taut and tired, the clear exhaustion from the day creeping up on him. "But it's over now."

Peter pulled on Rhino's grip, wanting to to be free of it. He didn't know what to do as his heart rate picked up and his breathing was coming out uneven. He just wanted to get away, to not have eyes on him, to not feel so confused as he came down from the high. 

Rhino's hand faltered at the pull and Peter was able to wrench his arm free, pushing past Vulture and grabbing the handle of the door. He managed to get it open before anyone could stop him and stumbled into the hallway, catching himself briefly on the opposite wall before making his way down it.

His vision was swimming now and his pulse was in his ears, pulsating along with each word of the Avengers echoing in his skull. 

_"What the fuck did you give him-"_

_"What's to say this isn't a trick-"_

_"What are your intentions with Peter-"_

_Peter, please talk to us-"_

_"How dare you touch him-"_

_"He's not in his right state of mind-"_

_Peter, I'm here-"_

His hand caught the edge of the kitchen island and he grabbed onto it. The sounds of approaching footsteps pushed him forward again and he backed away into the living room, still awash in the glow of Manhattan's skyline. 

He felt untethered as the men crowded into the kitchen, surrounding him as if he were their prey and the hunt was coming to its end.

"Peter..." Octavius sounded apprehensive for once. He stopped at the edge of the living room with the rest of the men as they watched Peter try and catch his breath.

His back hit the glass window with a soft thud and he jumped at the sensation, his heart seemed to be echoing in his ears and he felt like his breath could've clouded a mirror with how erratically it was coming out. His mind was twisting and his body fought against it, begging him to sink back down, to let the fog take him to sleep, a dreamless one with no pain or fear. 

But the pain and fear on his family's faces brought his own out as tears as iridescent as the moon slid down his face, and he looked to the men he had grown closer with in the past few days. Men he had enjoyed spending time with, and bonding over the mundane things he once bonded with the Avengers over. Men he had started to see in a new light.

And the only thing that coiled in his stomach and sang in his veins at the idea of it was disgust.

Disgust at himself for having ever been tricked into believing these men cared for him.

Adrian approached, slow in his movements as he knelt down in front of Peter, staring up at him with eyes so similar to his own it was almost frightening to look at. "Talk to us." He reached a hand forward to brush away Peter's tears when the hero's words stopped him.

"You... you stole me."

Adrian eyes widened, but shock was not evident in them, only a sadness that ran deep and true.

"Y-you took me from everything."

This wasn't a new conversation, but Peter couldn't help the words spilling out of his mouth as he explored them again, tasting new and bitter on his tongue. "And y-you drug me... f-force me to see them l-like that. To hurt them."

The villains seemed frozen at his words, unable to say anything in defense of it, even Mysterio was uncharacteristically quiet in the face of them.

"When will this stop? When will you stop hurting _me_?" Peter asked, tears falling faster than before. "I'm so tired, I-I can't take much more of it."

And he couldn't. Truly, his resolve and strength were fading each new day spent with the Sinister Six. The good times with the men did nothing to outweigh the bad and the trauma his mind and body were being put through could only pile on so much more until Peter collapsed underneath it, no longer able to get up.

As he looked upon Vulture, he could feel the rubble of the building pinning him down into concrete and water. Could feel fear shoot through his spine and coat his throat as he screamed for help. Could feel the hopelessness as he knew no one was coming for him and Adrian Toomes had left him to die.

He had been able to get back up then, had used his own strength and unwavering determination to make it through.

But right now, staring into the saddened eyes of the man who once tried to kill him, he didn't feel like he could get back up again. Not right now anyways.

So when Adrian blinked away his own tears and said, "I'm sorry," with a sincerity he didn't know the man possessed Peter allowed himself to collapse into his arms and weep quietly into his shoulder. 

Vulture held Peter tightly, muttering apologies into the boy's ear and simply holding him close. Holding him in a way as to reassure him that Adrian meant it, meant the apology and not just for the call. For everything. For every single thing he had ever done to hurt Peter. 

And for everything he was sure to come.

They stayed like that for a while, basked in the brilliance of Manhattan at night while the rest of the men looked on warily at the scene, each one processing their own emotions. Mysterio was the first to leave, heading off in the direction of his room and soon enough Scorpion and Electro followed suit, knowing there wasn't much they could do for Peter in that moment. It was something they would have to discuss with him another time. 

Rhino and Doc Ock remained, approaching the duo solemnly. Aleksei knelt down besides him, laying his hand comfortingly on the boy's shoulders.

"I am sorry Little Spider."

Peter didn't lift his head from Adrian's shoulder and Rhino sighed, standing and heading off to his own room as well, retiring for the night.

"Do you want to go to bed, Peter?" Ocatvius asked, voice low and standing back slightly as to not startle him.

"... I want to leave," Peter's voice came out muffled against Adrian's shirt and just like Rhino he refused to make eye contact with any of the villains. His shoulders were shaking still as he continued to cry. 

The fog was gone now as the effects of the drug wore off, but the exhaustion that came with it stayed behind. Peter could feel the darkness creeping at the edges now, his tears slowing as wave after wave of much needed sleep came crashing over him.

"You'll feel better in the morning, I promise." Otto said and Peter could've swore he could hear the smile in the man's voice. Could almost see it in his mind and he shuddered at it.

He didn't respond and closed his eyes, allowing Toome's hold to keep him upright as the sobs finally ebbed and his breathing slowed, steady and assured.

He was drifting on the edge of unconsciousness when he felt the shift in weight and knew Vulture had stood, still holding him, as he walked them out of the living room.

He let the darkness consume him and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was the image of Tony Stark's eyes bloodshot and terrified, looking at him like he was lost at sea and too far from shore.

And if Peter didn't feel like that before, he sure did now.

\----------------------------

The events from the previous night were not lost on Peter as he slowly awoke in the morning, the neon lights of Manhattan being replaced by the golden glow of the sun bathing him in a warmth and listlessness only the sun could provide.

He laid there for a while, staring out the window, trying to think clearly but his head felt like cotton, like it didn't quite belong on his shoulders. All of his thoughts felt far away and he almost closed his eyes again as he rolled over, but he caught site of a bouquet of daisies on his night stand, replacing the three roses Mysterio had given him earlier.

There was a card tucked into the bouquet and Peter unwound himself from the blankets to grab it. 

_"I'm sorry about last night. You're still my favorite guest. -Mysterio"_

Peter didn't have the energy to tear the card in half, so he let it fall to the floor, falling upright and Mysterio's scrawl glared up at him. 

He didn't know if it was ironic or not that the man who came up with the plan was also the one trying to make amends with Peter about it. Well he wasn't going to make it easy on him, Beck would have to do better than a vase full of daisies.

He dragged the blankets over his body again, nestling back into the comfort of his bed. His body felt just like his head, full of cotton and unusable. His body felt overly warm and he wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him, but he didn't linger on the intruding thoughts as he closed his eyes and fell back asleep with ease.

Peter dreamt of fire. He laid on his raft as the sea surrounding him lit up in flames of fury, and Peter could only think to describe it as hell itself. Heat was radiating off the water, coming too close for comfort, and singeing the hairs on Peter's arms. The fire lapped at him, almost lovingly as the waves once did and he shied away from them, moving to the middle of the raft to escape the hellish flames.

His cheeks were flushed and sweat dripped down the back of his neck, sticking to his skin and dampening the back of his shirt. A stray flame swiped too close to the raft and Peter hissed as it hit his hand. He pulled it back, cradling it to his chest, and noticed a red burn mark scorching the back of his hand. He whimpered at the feeling, shrinking further into himself, panic now pulling at his senses as his situation grew more dire.

The flames were growing ever closer, licking the edges of the wooden raft, and Peter was sure he was going to die, burnt to a crisp, and there was nothing he could do about it.

The sound of the wind greeted his ears and he looked up towards the sun, a strange black spot blotting out part of it. But the longer he looked the more the black dot grew larger and morphed into a different shape. As it came closer Peter could make out a figure, flames consuming it as it plummeted to earth. He stood on his raft, wide eyed and fearful as whoever fell from the sky fell with such a ferocity Peter was surprised they weren't screaming.

The person looked to him, body red and eyes looking almost like they were made of rubies, as they continued to burn and fall. The red of their skin turned into the red of their blood as their skin peeled away and they spiraled to the sea, mouth open in a wordless scream.

Peter watched in horror as they finally finished their decent, sucked into the black sea.

And then the flames around Peter disappeared, seemingly evaporating instantly, and he was adrift with only the gentle rocking of the sea staying with him. 

He looked frantically into the water, searching for the person, but there was no sign of them. No sign of anyone.

He called out, and kept calling out as his octave rose with each cry. He kept screaming until his voice went hoarse and he was left in silence, the blackness all consuming and all knowing.

He reached a hand forward, tentative about touching the water, scared about what lay beneath.

It hung in the air, trembling.

A burnt hand shot out of the depths, grabbing Peter's hand and before he could gasp he was pulled under. Water invaded his lungs, the salt burning as he thrashed in the man's grip. A face came into view, once ruby eyes were now bloodshot brown and the burnt figure of Mr. Stark swam before him.

"Peter," He whispered in admiration. "Peter, I'm here."

He opened his mouth, trying to answer but the water stopped him as Tony dragged him further down into the darkness. Down into the inky depths were no air or life resided.

"I'll never let them take you again. No matter what." Tony said, smiling and blood oozed into the water coating the black with red.

Peter screamed and woke with a start.

A hand was on his forehead and a blurry figure stood above him.

"... I..... why..." A voice murmured, pieces of the conversation scattering as Peter tried to focus.

He was so hot, so unbelievably hot and the hand on his forehead burned him, seared into his skin and the image of a burnt Mr. Stark gripped him as he wrenched himself forward, startling the person above him. 

He felt nauseous. And before he could think his hand flew to his mouth and thankfully a trash can was shoved in his face as he heaved the empty contents of his stomach into it. It was no more than stomach acid and water but his body kept heaving and tears pricked in the corners of his eyes at the acidity burning his throat. He continued to wretch, barely noticing a hand rubbing small circles into his back. He coughed the last bits up and fell back against the cushions again, body aching and throat destroyed by the vomit.

The trash can was removed from his lap and placed somewhere Peter didn't see when the person from before pushed a glass of water into Peter's hands. He drank it slowly, arms shaking, and was able to finish it off even with the taste of his own throw up still in his mouth.

"You good, kid?" Electricity sparkled under Electro's skin and his eyes were squinted, clearly disgusted at having to deal with a teenager's vomit.

Peter didn't answer, wasn't sure he could answer. Everything was swimming and his chest was heaving as he tried to regain his breath. His whole body shook and he felt so incredibly weak, like he could barely lift his arms kind of weak.

And the heat from before bristled over his skin, making everything feel too close and uncomfortable. 

"Sorry that was a stupid question, you're not good." Electro winced, fiddling idly with the empty glass.

"I... I don't feel g-good." Peter said, throat raw and hurting and the words came out strangled.

"Yeah, you've got a pretty high fever. We came to check on you when you didn't come for breakfast and well... you've been out of it for most of the day." Maxwell explained, looking away to the dark skyline of Manhattan and Peter blinked in realization that it was night time now. He was sure when he had fallen asleep it was morning.

"W-why?" Peter asked breathless, already feeling exhaustion taking him down again. 

Electro looked back at him, frowning, concern shining in his dark eyes. "We're not sure, kid. The Doc has been out today and none of us have any medical training so we don't have any answers for you. He's gonna be back real soon though and he can help."

Why was Octavius gone? Peter knew that the Sinister Six weren't always babysitting him 24/7, each member took turns leaving the warehouse and apartment as they obviously had to get food somehow, and do whatever they had to out on the streets of New York. But Otto had always been one to stay behind, Peter wasn't sure the man had ever left before. It was possible he did while he slept, but a part of Peter doubted it.

"I've been asleep all day?" Peter asked quietly, the twinkling lights of Central Park glittered like fairies in the inkiness of the night.

"Sort of, you've been in and out of it. This is the first time you've been somewhat coherent." Maxwell explained.

"I... I don't remember waking up." Peter said, wiping at his damp brow with a trembling hand.

"I'm not surprised... you weren't really making any sense. Your fever has gone down a little bit, that's probably why you're doing better now." Electro got up, heading into Peter's bathroom and the sound of the faucet running filled the space. Max came back, water glass refilled and handed it to Peter.

"Drink some more, you need the fluids."

Peter took the glass, sipping at it, his stomach still churning despite being empty.

"W-what did I say?" Peter asked, scared of the answer. Terrified he had revealed some Avenger secrets in the throes of the fever.

"Nothing too intelligible to be honest. You called Martin Bruce at some point and you kept telling Mysterio to take his helmet off." Electro chuckled at the last part. "But other than that it was just a bunch of nonsense. You didn't say anything embarrassing don't worry."

Peter finished his water, thinking about Electro's words. He wasn't sure if Maxwell was being entirely forthcoming but he didn't think the man was exactly lying to him either.

"Do you want to try and eat something? I know it might not sound all that appealing right now." Electro offered and Peter shook his head, he was absolutely sure he would puke again if anything but water was put into his stomach, and even the water he was wary of.

Sleep was the only thing he was capable of in that moment, and was the only thing he wanted to do, as his body slumped back into the pillows and his eyes were starting to shut.

"I figured." Electro sighed and looked at Peter knowingly. "Get some more rest, you can try eating when you wake up again."

Maxwell pulled the blankets back over him, and before the man could even turn off the lamp on the nightstand Peter was out.

He dreamt of rooftops, familiar ones. Ones he had sat on a million times. Ones he had been accompanied on by so many people.

At first it was Sam with him, his wings glistening in the bright light, and looking angelic as silver mixed with gold. He looked at Peter, smile as bright as the sun and he was saying something but it was lost on the wind. He stood and his wings spread out even further, casting a shadow onto the streets below, godlike and powerful, and when he looked back to Sam he was gone and Bucky took his place.

Bucky was shaking, a blank look on his face as he stared out across the skyscrapers. "I d-don't w-wanna... I-I don't w-wanna," He mumbled, almost rocking back and forth. Peter touched his shoulder, trying to grab his attention and Bucky's metal arm grabbed him by the shirt, thrusting him over the edge of the building. Peter grabbed his arms, holding on for dear life as the wind whipped around him and he yelled for Bucky to stop. To not do this. Bucky kept mumbling under his breath, tears now in his glassy eyes and his fingers relaxed. 

Peter fell.

He fell, a scream caught in his throat, and his stomach rushed up into his mouth as someone caught him by the foot, yanking him upwards in the sky. He looked up to his savior, seeing Adrian flying through the sky, his wings looking even more beautiful in comparison to Sam's. He brought Peter back up to the roof, dropping him with a thud before shooting off into the sky, until he was only a speck on the horizon.

Peter stared up into the sky before a voice dragged him away. "It seems like you're always falling recently." 

Clint sat there, sharpening one of his arrows, a devilish smile on his face. "Gotta learn to land on your feet kid." 

Peter watched as Clint shot an arrow off, aiming towards the sun, flying away into the abyss, and Peter's cries for him to come back fell on deaf ears.

"He's right ya know?" 

Peter whipped back around, coming face to face with Maxwell and Mac. "The only thing he's ever been right about," Mac snickered and Electro sneered in agreeance.

"But we'll always be there to pick you up, Peter." They approached, arms extended and Peter shut his eyes tightly. 

Arms enveloped him and he opened his eyes at a new voice. "We'll always be here for you." He looked up into Bruce's soft brown eyes and tears fell at the sight of the scientist. He hugged the man back with so much vigor he was afraid he would snap him in half.

Just when he was about to relax his hold Bruce disappeared and Peter stumbled forward, arms now encircling nothing. He looked around, shocked and teary-eyed at Aleksei who stood in the center of the rooftop.

"We'll always protect you Little Spider." 

The floor beneath him cracked, and Peter dove forward, desperate to catch the man before he fell. His hand grabbed onto Rhino's but when he looked down into the hole he was holding onto Natasha instead.

"Peter, I thought I taught you to be strong." She said, eyes sharp like everything else about her and disappointment rang clear on her face. "Where is your strength?"

He pulled, desperate to save Nat from the fall, to show her his strength was right here. It never left.

He pulled upward and her hand slipped from his. Natasha tumbled into the darkness and Peter screamed, leaping into the hole without a second thought. 

He fell of his own volition this time and landed on solid ground, his body crumpling upon impact. He pushed himself to his feet, looking wildly around for Natasha but the only person before him was Martin Li, burning bright white in the darkness.

"You couldn't save me, and yet you want me to save you?" Martin yelled, his energy crackling in the open air. "How self-serving is that."

Mr. Negative howled, his energy consumed the room until nothing left was a void of white and he was gone.

Peter pried open his eyes, blinking them to adjust to the brightness of the room. 

"Peter, where are you?" Steve's voice called out and he tried to answer, but his words died in his throat, as trapped as him. "Peter you have to tell us, we can't save you if you don't talk."

He clawed at his throat, tears rolling down his face as he opened his mouth, desperate to speak, desperate to answer, but nothing came forward. Steve's voice faded with each question and Peter was left alone in the void, neck bloody and skin stuck under his fingernails.

"Aww Petey, I don't like seeing you sad."

A cloud of smoke engulfed the room and Mysterio stepped out, dome reflecting the ravaged state Peter was in.

"You are my honored guest after all, and this place is not right for you!"

Mysterio grabbed his hand and pulled him into the smoke, away from the void and back into his apartment.

Peter fell to the living room floor and looked up to the silhouette of Daredevil standing against the windows.

"I told you to run, to save yourself." Matt said low, not turning to face Peter. "Why didn't you listen to me?"

"I'm sorry," Peter cried, voice regained now. "I'm sorry I should've saved you. I should've helped."

"No, you shouldn't have." 

Peter turned, tears falling faster now as Doc Ock entered the room, as poised as ever. Arms raised and ready to strike.

"I should've killed him then," Octavius hissed, stalking forward towards Daredevil who still hadn't moved from his spot.

Peter leapt forward, clinging to the doctor's coat, trying to drag him backwards. "No! Stop!"

Otto's arm shot forward, wrapping around Matt's neck and lifting the man into the air. 

Peter begged harder, "Please! Please don't!"

He turned to face Peter, a kind smile on his face as his other arms wrapped around Peter, coiling around him like a snake would its prey.

"Don't worry, Peter. He'll never come between us again."

His sobs were muffled as the arms wound up his body and covered his face. The last thing he saw was Doctor Octopus snapping Daredevil's neck with a crack that sounded like a shot and blood filled his vision.

He woke up screaming, surprising Octavius and Aleksei who were besides him. 

A needle glinted in the moonlight and Peter lost it, scrambling out of his bed with a strength he didn't know he possessed.

He raced across the floor, grabbing the door handle in a panic, trying to rip it open. He managed to fling it open but not before Doc Ock's arm grabbed his waist and yanked him back inside.

Peter was flailing, crying and screaming nonsense, not quite sure what was coming out of his mouth.

The doctor was saying words but Peter couldn't hear them as his heart pounded in his ears, and pure fear took root in his heart. 

"No no no no! Let me go!" Peter cried, thrashing against the doctor's hold as another mechanical arm reached for his arms.

"Peter, calm down!" Octavius yelled, looking just as panicked as Peter as he tried to wrangle the boy to the ground. 

"You killed him!! You killed him you sick fuck!" Peter screamed, tears flowing down his cheeks, almost sizzling at the contact with his fevered skin. 

Otto didn't answer as Rhino stepped forward, grabbing Peter's wild arms and holding them down against his side. He bucked against the man and heard Rhino try to stifle a hiss as Peter's strength temporarily overpowered his. The man's arms strained as he attempted to keep Peter in place.

He felt unhinged as he fought against his enemies, as he could still feel the crack of Daredevil's neck inside his bones. Could still hear all the words of everyone he encountered on the rooftop singing in his head like an unskippable song. 

He knew he had to fight, had to get out. He was like a wild animal caught in a trap, and he would be willing to chew off his own leg if it meant freedom.

Rhino put all his strength into subduing Peter and Otto's mechanical arms wrapped around his legs, trapping him in place.

More tears sprung forward and he sobbed at the restraints, putting all the strength he could into breaking them.

But just as quickly as his strength came, it faded. He was weakened by the fever and the sudden rush of adrenaline had been the only thing pushing him forward. His struggles lessened and dizziness overtook him and he closed his eyes trying to will it away. His breath came out in pants, and the heat from his fever came back full force. He dropped his head against the onslaught of sickness consuming him.

"Put him back in bed," Octavius ordered, his arms untangling from Peter's legs and Rhino lifted him up, tucking him back underneath the covers.

Peter was breathing harshly, shaking and crying still, but his body relaxed into the mattress, head falling softly onto the familiar pillows and he felt himself ease back into the comfort of the bed.

Otto brushed aside Peter's hair and he flinched at the touch, but if the man noticed he didn't say. He wound his fingers through Peter's brown locks, trying to calm him down. 

"Peter, you have a very high fever. You might be hallucinating." Otto tried to explain slowly. "We're not going to hurt you, we're here to help."

"No no," He objected. "You killed him, I saw you. You killed him." He sobbed, lips trembling and he looked up to the ceiling, trying to keep the tears at bay.

"It was a dream or a hallucination. I didn't kill anyone, I promise." 

"You killed someone I love," Peter rambled, not seeing his room but the living room once again. He could see Matt's cold body on the ground and he cried further. "He's right there, you left him there."

"No one is there Little Spider," Aleksei said, stepping on the spot Peter could see Matt's body and the image of Daredevil vanished, turning to dust before his eyes. The sight didn't comfort him though as he lost it.

"Please please let me go," Peter said. "I don't want to be here anymore!"

Octavius cupped his face, wiping at his tears. "You're safe, you're home."

Peter shook his head, the tears never ending. "No no no... I want Aunt May."

He was unraveling, the room spinning before him and the needle coming in sharp as the doctor raised his hand.

"No! No more drugs, please please," He sobbed, trying to scoot further down the bed but Octavius held him in place, grip on his arm tight.

"It's not drugs Peter, it's fluids. You need to replenish them and you're not awake enough to take them naturally so this is the only way." Otto explained, more patient than Peter had ever seen him before.

"I don't believe you!" Peter shouted. "You've been d-drugging me all this time, and you never told me what you gave me that one time!"

Otto looked confused for a second before clarity hit and he sat back, hands raised up with the needle still held in one. He put it down on the bed and let Peter breathe, giving him time to calm down.

"It was a saline solution, nothing more." Doc Ock answered, eyes cast low. "It was part of the test, I didn't give you any kind of drug then."

Peter didn't know what to say, mind and body too weak to fully process the information and not particularly caring it wasn't a drug in the moment. The doctor had been drugging him for so long, he didn't know if it mattered whether or not he hadn't _one_ time.

"I promise this is just fluids... you're very sick Peter and this is the only way I can help right now." Octavius said, and pulled up the fluid bag to show Peter. He even handed it to the boy so he could see for himself but Peter flinched at it, making to move off the bed again. Aleksei appeared on the other side blocking Peter's movement and he whimpered, once again trapped.

"Peter, please. We just want to help." Otto begged and Peter shrank back into the cushions, fear dancing up his spine.

"Why?" He asked, closing his eyes as the room tumbled and the nausea came back. 

His Spidey Sense hummed and his eyes shot open as Octavius pulled him forward, hugging him. 

"You are like a son to me," Doc Ock whispered, low enough so that only Peter could hear, and Peter swore he could feel some wetness on his cheek where Otto's eyes rested. "I'm going to take care of you, I'm going to protect you no matter what."

Peter's mind swirled and the physicality of Octavius changed into Tony, the words spoken said in Tony's tone.

And if anyone had asked Peter in that moment he could've swore it was Tony Stark hugging him, not Otto Octavius.

He latched onto the man, reciprocating the hug and whispered back, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"It's okay, "Tony reassured, rubbing his back and clutching the boy tightly. "I'm going to help."

Peter sobbed into Tony's shoulder, his body sagging in relief at being home. Finally back where he belonged.

The bed dipped to Peter's right and he looked up at Steve Rodgers sitting there, smiling tenderly at him. 

"Here, hold him while I give him the fluids," Tony told Steve, and Cap reached for Peter. 

Peter gratefully relaxed into the hold, resting against Cap as the man brushed back his hair. 

"You're doing great, Little Spider," Steve said and the oddity of the name stirred Peter slightly, but his attention was diverted again as Tony came forward with a needle in his hand.

"I'm going to hook you up to some fluids Peter, so just relax," Tony said, showing him the needle fully.

He nodded, looking away as Tony grabbed his arm, cradling his elbow as he pushed the needle into the crook of his arm. Peter winced at the sensation but it was over quickly as Tony pressed tape to the needle to keep it in place. 

"Okay, all done." Tony said, a sincere smile on his face. "This will help make you feel better."

Peter nodded, wiping away the last of his tears and returned a shaky smile of his own.

"You should rest, little one, regain your strength," Steve said, adjusting Peter so he was laying back against the pillows. The name stirred something again in Peter and confusion gripped him. Cap never called him little spider or little one.

He stared into Steve's blue eyes and large silhouette but before he could place the strangeness of it all the man was up and moving around the side of the bed to join Tony.

"I'll check on you again soon," Tony said, also moving to stand. "You can call me if you need anything."

He shut the lamp off and both men were out the door, shutting it quietly behind him.

Peter laid in the darkness, the once twinkling lights of Manhattan seeming dull and dreary for once. Exhaustion lingered in every crevice of his body and mind but he found he couldn't sleep.

He closed his eyes against the soft pillow, trying to desperately sleep again but there was something nagging at the back of his mind. Something begging to be attended to that very moment, but it was a mere whisper against all of his other needs. Against everything else that demanded his attention.

His breathing was finally slowing, evening out, when his Spidey Sense blared, hot and angry in the base of his skull and he shot up, looking to the corner of the room.

A crackle could be heard and a faint whir. Peter looked onward, his Spider Sense now humming as he sensed something moving in the corner until it was at the foot of his bed.

He opened his mouth, about to call for Tony when the object moving revealed itself, dropping its invisibility cloak.

Peter jumped so hard he felt like he got whiplash from it, and he moved further into the headboard, trying to put as much distance between the machine and himself.

 _Drone_ , his mind idly supplied.

A voice crackled from the machine, muffled and robotic sounding, "Peter?"

He didn't move, didn't dare speak. Trying to remain as still as possible in case this thing could sense movement.

His heart was in his throat as an image filtered into the room, static and warped.

Mr. Stark stood before him.

"Peter? Can you hear me?"

If he wasn't confused before he sure was now.

"...Mr. Stark?" He asked, voice as quiet as Tony's, not sure why he was seeing the man in hologram form. Didn't he just see him? Why wouldn't Mr. Stark come talk to him in person? And what device was he using to do this?

"Peter, oh thank god," Tony said. "Thank god. It worked."

"Mr. Stark... I-I just saw you, what is this?" Peter asked, crawling forward and the tug on his arm kept him from moving anymore as he looked back to the bag hooked up near his nightstand.

Tony's image was growing sharper with each passing moment, and the static from before that looked like a hologram ripped straight out of Star Wars was gone, and Tony looked as real as he did before.

"Peter, that call was over a day ago," Tony said, eyes glistening with sorrow. "I've been trying to hack these drones that they used to make the call, Natasha helped us figure out what they were-" Tony stopped himself, realizing he was rambling now. "It doesn't matter, the point is is that I hacked these drones. I can't fully control them without alerting them to my presence but I can use their comms."

Peter's mind was whirling as he looked at his mentor, not able to understand what was happening.

"I... I just saw you," Peter repeated, reaching out his hand for Tony. "W-why aren't you here?"

Tony's face fell as guilt sat heavy and burdensome on his features. "Peter, I want to be, more than anything in this world. You need to tell me where you are so I can come get you."

"I-I... I don't understand," He said, arm still outstretched for Tony to take.

Tony finally noticed Peter's hand and realized what the kid wanted. He strode forward and lowered his hand onto Peter's, only for it to phase through the hero's hand completely. Goosebumps broke out over Peter's arms and the hair on his back of his neck stood on end. He shrank back into the bed, holding the hand Tony touched close to his chest and stared wide-eyed at the hologram.

"I'm not here, Peter. Not physically at least." Tony explained, moving to kneel besides the bed so he could stare at Peter, he looked to the IV bag on the nightstand and his eyes narrowed at it. "What is that? Are they drugging you?"

A headache was forming in his forehead as the utter confusion of Tony's presence and words sent Peter reeling.

"Y-you gave it to me, don't you remember Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, trying to touch the man again just for his hand to go through Tony's shoulder. He wrenched it back as if he'd been burned.

"I didn't Peter, I swear I didn't." Stark looked at him, noticing the flush in his cheeks, and the far away look in Peter's eyes. "What's wrong, Pete? What are they doing to you?"

The headache was sharp now, feeling like small knives cutting across the backs of his eyes and Peter held his head, wincing in pain. 

"Peter?" Tony asked, concerned, and he moved forward to reach for him before remembering and he let his arm drop to his side again. 

"Mr. Stark... I-I don't know what's real." Peter confessed, looking back to his mentor. "I don't know what's happening."

"I'm real Peter, this is real. Not a dream, not a hallucination, not an _illusion_." Tony said, his words as sharp as his image and Peter could see the fury in his eyes when he said the word illusion. "Watch the drone, I'm going to move it closer to the bed."

Peter looked to the drone and couldn't help flinching as it came closer to the bed just like Ironman said it would. 

"I'm going to move it over to the window now."

The drone moved languidly until it sat directly in front of the window, the impressiveness of the machinery now on full display.

"I can control the drone in this way, but that's it. I can hack the communications as well, which is how I'm talking to you right now." Tony said, drawing Peter's attention back to him. "I know this may not be entirely convincing for you but it's the only thing I can think of to prove this is real right now."

Peter's breath hitched and the pain of the headache hit him hard, causing Peter to double over, clutching at his head.

"Peter!" Tony said sharply. "Peter, talk to me."

"I-I don't feel s-so good, Mr. Stark," He whimpered, curling on his side into a fetal position. 

"Is it the drugs? Tell me what's wrong." Tony begged, just wanting answers. 

"S-sick I think," Peter mumbled, screwing his eyes shut in an attempt to ward off the sharp throb of the headache.

"Sick? You haven't been sick in a long time," Tony mused, looking at Peter worriedly.

He didn't respond, not sure what to say. His headache was easing back into a dull pain the longer he kept his eyes closed, and the sleep he couldn't find before was gradually catching up with him. 

"Peter, you need to tell me where you are. I don't know how much longer I can keep this up without them finding out," Tony said, sounding desperate as his voice was right next to Peter's ears now.

"I'll tell you in the morning..." Peter said, knowing Tony was going to check on him again soon like he promised. He just wanted to sleep now, the heat from his fever that once made him uncomfortable was now soothing him, making his body warm and relaxed as his headache started to subside.

"Peter, no! I don't know if I can do this again, you need to tell me now!" Tony said, voice growing louder and he swore as something off screen grabbed his attention for a moment. "Peter, please I only have a few more seconds before I have to disconnect."

Tony's lack of composure drew Peter back up briefly from the depths and he blinked blearily at the man and said, "I ...think Central Park."

He closed his eyes again as Tony's voice grew distant, asking "Where in central park?" but Peter didn't answer as he was dragged down into the comfort of the blankets, cushioning him as he descended into unconsciousness, and he would awake in the morning not knowing if his conversation with Tony was a dream or reality.

But before that he dreamt of Ben and May. He dreamt of them at the kitchen table having breakfast with him and talking about innocuous things that made Peter feel like he was soaring. It was a dream he didn't want to wake from, even as the sun outside the window turned black.

It sat in the sky as a warning of things to come, and Peter did what he does best.

He ignored it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright y'all let me start with an apology for how long this took to upload.
> 
> Like I've said in previous chapters things at my job were getting hectic, and boy did they really. I had a huge deadline I had to make, and to be honest I'm still dealing with that deadline, and when I was finished with work I was in such a bad mood I didn't want to write. Work was just a huge negative presence for me this past week or so and that affected this update. 
> 
> So I'm sorry this took so long. I can't promise the next chapter will be quick either, I'm doing what I can in the moment and I only wanna write when I'm not feeling shitty ya know? So hopefully after this deadline is met things will go back to normal and I'll be in more of a constant writing mood then. 
> 
> But I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Lemme know your thoughts, and as always thanks for your continued support it truly means a lot to me ^^


	22. The Jaws of Darkness

_"If there were a sympathy in choice, War, death, or sickness, did lay siege to it, Making it momentary as a sound, Swift as a shadow, short as any dream, Brief as the lightning in the collied night That, in a spleen, unfolds both heaven and earth, And ere a man hath power to say 'Behold!' The jaws of darkness do devour it up; So quick bright things come to confusion."_ \- Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

Martin Li was known as a worrier.

He worried about everything and everyone, and he'd be lying if he didn't say he hadn't always known that about himself. Even as a child, he had been a worrier.

Leaving China and starting a new life in America hadn't been easy, especially at the tender age of seven. The streets he had grown familiar with, the vendors that treated him like their own son, were now replaced by letters unrecognizable and people who ignored his presence. He had become anonymous in a sea of unfamiliarity and for a child that was about the worst place to be.

His parents put pressure on him to adapt, but not just for himself but for them as well. He learned English at a rapid pace, helping his parents talk to government offices about their immigration paperwork, talking to customers at the bodega they bought and ran, and helping decipher bills all by the time he was ten. It was perhaps the fact that he had to be the one to parent for his parents that made him into a worrier in the first place.

But he couldn't blame them, not truly. They slowly learned English and adapted to the American lifestyle themselves, and by the time he was sixteen the Li family had started to consider New York their home.

That is, until he got sick.

Days went by when the exhaustion he thought to be an effect from school and helping run the bodega reached a head, and he passed out in the middle of class, falling face first into his textbook.

He awoke in the nurse's office, disoriented and feverish, not even able to recognize his own principal at first. His parents arrived, stroking his hair and speaking to him in Chinese, comforting him in the language they knew best.

Tests were run at the hospital, multiple doctors were seen, and the bills kept piling up.

And yet, no diagnosis was made.

Every doctor would shuffle into the room, eyes downcast, hands knotted, and Martin knew what they were going to say before they even said it.

_"We have no definitive answers about your son's condition. All of our tests came back negative... I'm sorry Mr. and Mrs. Li."_

His parents, devastated and worried themselves, never showed that to Martin. They were always positive, telling him another doctor could help. Another hospital would have an answer. Their prayers would be answered.

And in a way, their prayers were answered in the form of Norman Osborn. 

Martin worried when Osborn approached them, whispering promises of not just a diagnosis but a cure in his parents ears. He worried as he saw the gleam in the man's eyes, and the promise of helping pay their medical debt if they were willing to allow him to help their son.

He worried that the promises were too good to be true.

But his parents, out of money and options, did not consider Martin's worries and promised him that Norman Osborn was the key to his health. He was the only one who could save Martin from death.

And because he loved his parents, and he desperately wanted to live, he put his worries aside and allowed Norman to take him to Oscorp, to a basement filled with needles and surgical tools, to fix what was broken.

For months, the scientists of Oscorp experimented on Martin, poking and prodding him with various chemicals and sharp instruments. The pain was overwhelming, excruciating, to the point that he doesn't remember most of what happened. His mind blocking those memories, to save him from the torment he endured.

He never told his parents what they did to him, so he took on the worry and the fear, to save them from knowing the answer to their prayers came with a price. A price they didn't know they had to pay.

Norman visited him on occasion, to check the status of the experiments, and for all of his coldness and callousness of what the doctors did to Martin, he did have some humanity. He would whisper affirmations to him, told him the pain would be worth it when they figured out how to save his life. That Martin would save hundreds of lives once a cure for his unknowable disease was made. Norman told Martin he was a hero.

It seemed fate had different plans for the both of them.

The breakthrough came on the eve of Martin's seventeenth birthday. His parents were allowed to join as Norman stood behind glass, instructing his scientists on what to do.

His parents held his hands, tears in their eyes as the serum was injected into Martin's veins and the hope in both of their eyes was the last thing he remembered before he was consumed by a blinding light.

Everything whited out.

When he came to, the lab was destroyed, glass shattered and tables flipped over, vials of serum leaking onto the floor, and bodies... bodies scattered everywhere. White lab coats turned ash from fire, skin peeled off of faces and horror wide in everyone's eyes.

His parents bodies were on the opposite walls of his bedside, broken and twisted, bones sticking out and mouths open, tinted red with blood. 

No one alive remained in the lab. And all of the worry Martin held on his shoulders, came crashing down, dragging him into depths of despair he didn't know was possible.

He screamed until his voice gave out and his skin turned white, pulsating with wild energy, and in his shattered state he didn't even recognize that the serum had in fact cured his disease.

And given him something else entirely.

He returned to China once he was eighteen, starting his shipping empire, and trying to put behind the events at Oscorp. Trying to rebuild his life, whatever semblance of it he had left.

He was aware of a voice in his head. A whisper that was all to similar to Norman's.

It whispered to him at night, itching in his head, unable to be scratched. It spoke of things that Martin was trying to forget.

It spoke of the experiments, of the horrors, of the death. It spoke of his fears and his worries.

It spoke to him as if it were a friend, trying to remind him in order to help him.

And for years he was able to stave off the voice, allow it to continue it's script but without letting it affect his daily life. He was able to keep it at bay, but the longer he continued to ignore it the louder it grew.

The voice started to resemble his own, the thoughts mingling and morphing into one. 

His worries became the voice's worries, and the whispers he had managed to keep away now became as clear as the sky.

He thought of the voice as a demon, saying the things he secretly wanted, but resisted the temptation of.

Revenge against Oscorp, against Norman Osborn.

Avenging his parents death and his own destroyed life.

Each day he remained in China the voice grew louder and the white void came with it, tainting his skin and surging with power unlike anything he ever felt before.

The days the voice was the loudest were the ones he remembered the least, only coming to after the destruction. The world shifting back into color and him shifting back into himself.

The destruction brought him back to the lab, to the hope in his parents eyes. To their eyes after, burned and bloodied and unseeing.

And the rage he had tried to keep back could no longer be contained, and he knew he had to satiate it or it would destroy himself and innocent people.

He returned to New York with a new amass of wealth and power, no longer a worried teenager but a man with a purpose.

He founded F.E.A.S.T in an attempt to do some good. As much as he remembered the pain of the experiment, he remembered the pain of the foster care system just as much.

He wanted to help those whose plights were similar to his own, and it was the one thing he could do to keep ahold of himself. Of Martin Li.

Not the demon.

But the demon was strong, and even the safe haven of F.E.A.S.T was not untouchable to its darkness. He built a hidden room in the building, to house his plans for Oscorp and Norman specifically. He spent years researching and hunting down those responsible for his fate.

And he found his answer in the form of Devil's Breath, the serum that turned him into a monster. The serum that killed his parents.

It would be the same serum that would undo Norman Osborn and bring the man to his knees.

Would force him to beg for mercy, and the demon would have none to spare.

That was the plan anyway, and even with his newfound sense of confidence and purpose carrying him forward the worry still remained, under the surface of his white skin and powerful energy.

It always stayed with him, and in a strange way kept him grounded to himself.

He worried that if he went through with this plan, that there would be nothing of Martin Li left.

Only Mr. Negative would remain.

His worries were never tested fully, as with each new step he made forward he found Spiderman blocking his path. The hero thwarted him at every attempt he made in gaining Devil's Breath, and Martin wasn't even sure he knew what he was protecting.

The fury towards Norman shifted onto Spiderman and Mr. Negative attacked the hero with the ferocity only a true demon could possess.

But no matter how many times he knocked the hero down, Spiderman always got back up, and always found a way to interfere.

He came to realize that until Spiderman was taken care of, he wouldn't be able to move forward with his revenge. It was an obstacle, originally unaccounted for, but not unsolvable. 

And with the help of some like-minded men he was sure they would be able to stop Spiderman once and for all.

Being a part of the Sinister Six opened up new avenues for him, he was able to accrue more wealth and notoriety and more men were willing to join his cause.

Men he called Demons, to remind him of his purpose.

They fought with Spiderman and the Avengers for years, slowly pushing back on the heroes, and it all came to a head the day of the construction site. He had seen Dr. Octopus throw Spiderman through the wall towards the back, and knew this could be the end of the arachnid.

He had felt smug at it, triumphant in the moment, but it all fell away when he returned to the warehouse with his team and saw the look on the doctor's face.

No triumph. No victory.

Only fear and worry.

And he saw the unconscious form of Spiderman in a bed, bloody and beaten, unmasked, and all of the rage Martin had felt for his entire adulthood melted away, and the worry came back.

Worry for the hero he had tried to kill so many times before.

Worry because Peter Parker, lying unconscious in that bed, looked like a young Martin in the basement of Oscorp.

Broken.

And the old Martin Li, the one who had pushed down the voice for so long, was rearing its head for the first time in years. The one who played chess with the homeless at his shelter. The one who talked to the customers at the bodega. The one who mourned his parents and could still remember their smiles.

The one that looked at the teenager and didn't see the hero he had detested for stopping his revenge, but saw a child in over his head and so incredibly frail. A child that needed help.

And so the worry returned, but with a new person to fret over. He wanted to protect Peter, to save him from having to experience the same world that was forced upon him. As he got to know Peter more, his protective nature intensified.

He wanted to keep Peter from the life of Spiderman, from men like him who would do him harm, and from the Avengers who willingly put him in harms way. He liked the kid. He especially liked having him around.

The Sinister Six were men not to be trifled with, and even though they were Martin's comrades he felt the same about them as their enemies did. They weren't always serious with one another, Mac and Maxwell not having the personality for it, but he wouldn't have said the men were particularly close with one another. They simply shared the same goals, with extraordinary abilities and tech to help them achieve it. It was a beneficial arrangement, and not much more was needed to help them win.

But as Spiderman became integrated into their dysfunctional family, the air of indifference towards one another started to fade. He found out more about his teammates during their time with Peter, than he had known about them for years.

Each of them was capable of softness and compassion. Aleksei tried to teach Peter Russian, in an attempt to bond with him. Martin caught Mac giving Peter some of his food, after a few dinners, when he thought the boy wasn't eating enough. Maxwell used his abilities to dim the lights when he noticed it was bothering Spiderman, always aware of his sensitivities. Adrian fought with Octavius every day Peter was kept inside of the room, adamant on bringing him out. Adrian never questioned Octavius' motives and reasonings before, he was a solider through and through in that regard, but for the first time he was pushing back, and fighting for what he believed to be right. 

And Octavius... well. He remained the same stubborn, immovable man, but his resolve had shifted. His resolve from destroying Spiderman became one to protect him, no matter the cost. Martin saw the way he looked at Peter, saw the softness and admiration in his gaze. He knew little of the doctor's life, if he had any children of his own, but he could see that Peter was slowly becoming a son to him. 

Like he was to them all.

And the worry of what would happen to him if the Avengers took him away, stayed with all of them. The voice of the demon that once spoke of revenge, now spoke of new things.

_Don't let them take him away. Don't let anyone hurt him._

The focus had been on the Avengers and Daredevil, with some wariness saved for Mysterio, but the night of the call changed things for Martin.

The look on Peter's face, the fear and panic, had taken Martin back to the basement of Oscorp. 

He had pleaded with Norman to not hurt him, to stop the experiments, when it all became too much. But the man didn't relent, only whispered empty encouragements that made Martin's skin crawl.

Peter begged the same way he begged, and he called out for Martin to help him. To do something.

And he was even worse than Norman in that moment.

He did nothing at all.

He watched in horror when the panic left Peter's face as the drugs took effect, and his eyes glazed over, no longer the intense hazel color Martin had grown so familiar with. He looked lifeless in Octavius' hold, eyes as unseeing as his parents once were, and the doctor took him away.

And he did nothing at all.

He didn't join the other men for the call, as his skin bristled with energy and the air around him was sapped of color. He left the apartment, heading into the bowels of the building where no one could see him and he stayed there as the demon spoke clear to him.

_"He is yours to protect. Yours to keep safe. What will you do to keep your word?"_

Darkness surrounded him, only the light from his essence shone through, and the worry Martin always carried with him solidified into something greater.

Determination.

He returned to the apartment in the morning, heart heavy and mind spinning as a plan started to weave together, but it came to a grinding halt when Adrian approached him.

"Martin... what happened to you last night?"

The Vulture was tired, weariness sitting ugly on his face, and his movements sluggish in the morning sun. His jaw was prickled, unshaven and uneven, and he looked unkempt. Martin wasn't sure if he had slept or not.

"I had something I needed to attend to," He half-lied, not trying to make Adrian suspicious. Even with exhaustion looming over him, Martin would be a fool to underestimate him. Adrian was sharp and clever, it was why he was always so good at chess. Nothing escaped him, and he would be the first to notice something wrong with Martin if he didn't play it cool.

Toomes looked at him, almost questioning, but the inquisitive look vanished and the weariness was back, the bags under his eyes somehow looking darker than before. "Ah, well. The call went... well, I suppose. The Avengers seemed rattled by Peter's presence."

"How is Peter?" Martin asked, noticing the boy was not in the kitchen like he normally is for breakfast.

Adrian shifted his gaze, looking to the stool Peter always occupied, and his face fell at the empty sight. "That's... that's where we have a problem."

Martin's blood ran cold. "What problem?"

Adrian ran a hand down his face, scratching at his stubble. "He's upset... not unexpected of course, but this morning he didn't come for breakfast so Aleksei went to check on him..." Toomes trailed off, looking down the hall in the direction of Peter's room. "He's sick, Martin. Like really sick, we have no idea why."

His mouth felt dry as he pressed, "What's wrong with him?"

The tiredness that Adrian exuded was easily explained as he answered, "High fever, unresponsive. We can't wake him up, and the times he does wake up he's delirious. He doesn't know where he is or who we are."

"H-how? He was fine yesterday," Martin asked, fear dancing up his spine as he glanced behind himself towards Peter's room, as if he would see the young hero emerge any second.

"We don't know, and the Doc is out right now. He had something to do... so we're trying our best but the kid is not doing well." Vulture said, and started to walk down the hall, beckoning Martin to follow.

The two men entered Peter's room, where Aleksei sat dabbing at the teenager's forehead with a wet cloth. Martin rounded the side of the bed, to get a better view of Peter and he wished he hadn't.

Peter's face was flush and pale all at once, clammy sweat beading on his skin, and his chest rose and fell erratically as he breathed haphazardly. He looked small on the bed, the blanket drawn up to his chin and he could see his body trembling underneath the covers, shivering from the effects of the fever.

Martin wondered if this is how he looked to his parents when he was sick. As if he would simply fade away any second.

He felt his heart crack as he looked upon Spiderman's prone form.

"We've been taking shifts to watch over him, but not much has changed." Adrian said, standing besides Rhino and looked down at the teen in pity. "He was upset last night, but he wasn't sick. We don't know what could have caused this."

Martin didn't answer and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Peter's hand in his own. It radiated heat and was limp in his grasp and the plan Martin had started to formulate came to a screeching halt.

There was no way he could move Peter in this state.

"Could it be a reaction to the sedatives?" Martin asked, looking up to his teammates.

Aleksei and Adrian looked shocked, realizing they didn't think of that. "I mean... it's possible, but if it is, it's a pretty delayed one. Wouldn't he have had a reaction soon after being administered them?"

"I don't know..." Martin mused. "I just don't see what else could have caused this."

Rhino piped up, "Distress."

Martin looked at him pointedly, the large man looked tiny as his shoulders hunched over and he continued to dab at Peter's forehead. "Little Spider is not well."

"We know that Aleksei-" Adrian huffed but Rhino tapped on Peter's head finishing his thought, "in here."

"Sickness is not always from the body, sickness can also come from the mind." Rhino said, his head hanging even lower. "My brother..." Aleksei stopped himself, saying no more, his muscles protruding as he clenched his fist around the cloth. 

Silence permeated the room and Rhino stood, excusing himself as he handed the cloth over to Adrian and exited the room, his thunderous footsteps echoing down the hallway.

Peter whimpered in his sleep, his breathing picking up and Martin ran his hand through the boy's hair, trying to soothe him. The whimpering subsided and Peter settled further down into the blankets. 

"This place is not good for him, Adrian." Martin whispered, never taking his gaze off of Peter. "What if Rhino is right and we're making him sick."

Adrian said nothing at first, twisting the cloth furiously in his hands and wringing some of the water out, getting his pants wet in the process. 

"I don't know if that is true... but I agree that this place is not right for him. It's hard for any of us to relax with Mysterio around-"

"-Mysterio has nothing to do with the current situation and you know it," Martin cut him off, not looking to hear any more excuses from him. "This goes beyond Mysterio's involvement."

"What do you want me to say, Martin?" Adrian snapped, eyes so similar to Peter's widening in anger. "You want me to say we need to hand Peter over to the Avengers, cause that's not fucking happening!"

"No! But maybe we need to reevaluate what we're doing here and _who_ exactly we're doing it for!" Martin snarled, his own anger turning the tips of his fingers white, still wound in Peter's hair.

Adrian's mouth turned downwards, teeth bared as he hissed, "I'm doing this for Peter and if you're trying to question that-"

"-Are you? Tell me has Peter been safe with us, really? Was he safe in that room?"

Adrian stood, knocking the chair over, the sound echoing around the room with a bang. "Don't you put that on me, Martin! I was the only one fighting Octavius on that, I don't remember _you_ saying anything about it!"

His hand was now white, and was growing hotter by the second. "And yet you didn't do anything about it, Adrian!" He sneered and was about to stand too when Peter's whimpers came back and he realized his hand was still in the boy's hair. He hastily removed it, the white fading, and Peter's eyes opened.

"Peter?" Martin breathed, and Adrian's anger died away instantly, kneeling on the floor to get a better look at him.

Peter's eyes opened fully, glassy and unaware of his surroundings. They strayed from Adrian to Martin, resting on his face and the boy mumbled out, "Bruce?"

Martin froze, unsure of what to say or do, and Peter's hand weakly squeezed his own as a shaky smile was brought to his lips, and Martin knew better than to try and correct him in the moment.

"I'm here, Peter." He said, rubbing his thumb along the boys hand and smiling reassuringly at him. 

Peter looked at him, shaking and the smile fell as tears gathered in his eyes. "B-Bruce..." he sobbed, blubbering. "Why... w-why do you t-think you're a m-monster?"

Martin stared at Peter, realizing he thought he was Dr. Bruce Banner, and the boy was reliving a conversation he must've had with the man before. No doubt that he was referring to the Hulk that resided within Banner, an uncontrollable beast that overtook Bruce and destroyed everything in sight.

Something Martin could, unfortunately, relate with.

And even knowing that, he couldn't help but feel as if Peter was talking directly with him. That he could hear the voice inside his head that very second.

"It's something I can't control sometimes..." Martin confessed, pupils dilated as he relived his own trauma as Mr. Negative. "I don't always remember what I do, and I... I hurt people."

"But that's not you!" Peter cried harder, gripping Martin's hand so tight Peter's own hand turned whiter in its clutch. "T-that's not who you are."

Martin looked at Peter, and saw everything he had ever done as Mr. Negative in that moment. Every act, every decision, every word said slammed into him like a freight train and Peter's hand in his felt like his only lifeline, the only thing keeping him afloat from falling back into the depths of despair.

Back into the arms of a force so familiar it brought tears to Martin's eyes.

And he spoke aloud the truth that he had turned a blind eye to ever since that fateful day in Oscorp's basement. "But that monster is me, Peter. It's every negative feeling I have personified. It's voice is no different than my own, and its actions are mine... It does the things I want to do, deep down. It destroys and kills... and that's part of who I am."

He finally admitted to himself that he was the demon after all, and the voice inside his head laughed.

_"So you finally get it."_

Peter, in his goodness, cried even harder, shaking his head and murmuring feverishly. "That's not true. That's not true." He tried sitting up but Adrian pushed him back down into the pillows, trying to ease the boy back to sleep. 

"B-Bruce please... please," Peter begged, eyes wild and Martin approached closer, not sure what the boy was begging for exactly. 

"It's okay, Peter. I promise you I'll never hurt you." Martin said, a wry smile now on his face as he faced the truth he had avoided for years. The truth that Norman Osborn may have had a hand in what happened to his parents, but it was Martin that killed them. Powers unstable and uncontrollable had cost Mr. and Mrs. Li their lives, and all because they didn't want to watch their son die.

All because they hoped that Norman Osborn had the answers to their prayers.

Martin wondered if Peter was the answer to his prayers, the thing that he had hoped for in secret for so long. The thing that he whispered into the night when the voice was quiet, and everything was still. The thing that made his hands tremble and his heart pound if he thought about it for too long.

For someone to save him from himself. 

"You're g-good, I know it." Peter whispered, his eyes finally starting to close as the exhaustion took him back down. "Y-you're not a... monster." The last word hung in the air as Peter's eyes shut and his breathing evened out, asleep again in his fevered state.

Adrian wiped his face with the cloth, washing away the tear tracks, and looked to Martin in thought. Martin returned the look, the air heavy between them, and he knew he ought to feel embarrassed that Adrian heard his confession. Saw him in a moment of weakness, but for some reason he didn't feel embarrassed. He didn't feel anything about it.

It was almost an emptiness that stayed with him.

"He reminds me of my daughter." Adrian said, voice so quiet Martin almost didn't hear him.

Martin had never heard Vulture talk about his family before, he was under the impression the man had none. 

"She is... was full of light just like Peter." Adrian said, a darkness taking over his face. 

The change in words didn't go unnoticed and Martin didn't need to ask the question. "She wasn't much older than him..." He look to Martin, sorrow so profound it was hard to look away. "Car accident. I was in the Raft when it happened."

"I blamed Spiderman for so long... for keeping me away from her. I let revenge consume me." Adrian explained, looking back down the Peter, his own hand going to grab Peter's other. "When I saw him in battle, when Octavius showed me I-" Adrian stopped, eyes large in his taut face and looking as haunted as both men felt. "-I saw Liz. I saw my daughter... I see her in Peter every day now."

Martin looked down to the boy and understood what Adrian meant. Understood how special Peter had become to all of them, how he brought out things buried for so long it was hard to look them in the eye.

"I can't live without that again, Martin... I won't." Toome's eyes were steel now as he lifted his gaze back to him, determination set and resolve unwavering. "I know Peter is not Liz, but I will not let this child die like she did. I will not let the Avengers send him to his death. He will find a home with us, and he will be happy. I promise you, Martin. He will be well again."

Martin could see there would be no swaying Adrian, no changing his mind, and a part of him didn't want to. A part of him wanted to be swayed by Adrian, to allow himself to think Peter could be happy with them. Peter could have a home with them.

But the voice said different, it said the truth only the monster can say.

That Peter would never truly be home with them, would never truly be happy. He would always be their prisoner.

And men like Octavius and Adrian couldn't see otherwise. _Wouldn't_ see otherwise. They would keep Peter with them forever, to satiate their own twisted reasoning. That he would be protected, no matter the cost.

Except Martin was familiar with the price of prayers. He knew what it could mean, and the price that was being asked now was one too high for him to continue to pay.

The plan that had stopped short began turning again, the wheel of fate back in motion. Martin looked to Adrian, eyes dark and unwavering himself, and said, "Peter will be well again, soon."

A knock at the door startled them as Electro walked in, ready to take over for the next shift.

"How's the kid doing? Did he wake up?" Maxwell asked, looking nervously to Spiderman on the bed. Adrian stood, dropping Peter's hand back onto the bed, and walked over to Electro. "He did, briefly though."

"Did he say anything?" Max asked, curious.

"He called Martin Bruce," Adrian answered, chuckling softly, as if the moment had been funny. "Nothing else though... I'm going to get some rest, Martin I suggest you do the same." He called over his shoulder as he walked out and Electro fully walked into the room, picking up the chair that had toppled over and sat in it.

"He called you Bruce?" Maxwell questioned, eyebrow raising.

"Yeah... he thought I was Dr. Banner." Martin answered, looking to Peter's sleeping figure one more time before standing up himself, placing Peter's hand gently on the bed. 

"I wonder why." Max shrugged, picking up the cloth and placing it over Peter's forehead.

Martin didn't respond as he walked out the door, Peter's last word still hanging in the air.

And even though the word rang true, Martin still fought against it.

He didn't want to be a monster. He never did.

He wanted to make amends, and he knew he was going to start with Peter.

He was going to get him home, no matter the cost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! ^^ This chapter was very fun for me to write, I really like Martin as a character so it was fun to explore his backstory and motivations.
> 
> I'm going to be away for a bit so I won't be able to update again until probably the weekend, so please be patient until then!
> 
> Lemme know your thoughts!


	23. Omission

_"Omission to do what is necessary Seals a commission to a blank of danger; And danger, like an ague, subtly taints Even then when we sit idly in the sun."_ \- Shakespeare, The Family Shakespeare

Peter spent the next few days in bed, and if anyone were to ask him to recall each moment he would be unable to. His memory was fractured, with pictures torn down the middle and the pieces impossible to fully put together. The fever gripped him tighter than any sickness ever had before. 

He was delirious most of the time, calling each member of the Sinister Six a different name at some point. 

The worst had been when he called Mac Clint and the man had seized up at the name. He looked as if Peter had struck him, sweat beading on his forehead, and eyes dilating as he sucked in a breath. Peter, of course, did not understand why Clint was reacting the way he did and continued to call for the man, wanting comfort in the moment, but Clint had abruptly stood up, and limped out of the room without a word to Peter. Unable to hold back his own hurt, Peter started crying and calling louder for him, wanting Clint to return. In his desperation he tried getting out of bed, but quickly collapsed to the ground, and laid there weeping until Rhino came in and helped him back into bed. 

Mac had returned later that night, when Peter was calmer and not in the throes of the fever, and apologized to him. "I shouldn't have left like that, kid. You needed me and I wasn't there for you... I'm so sorry." Even in the dim light Peter could see the tears in Scorpion's eyes even as he wiped them away hastily, and he didn't mind when the man pulled him in for a hug. He even returned it in earnest, knowing Mac needed it. They had stayed like that for a while, and Peter couldn't say it wasn't nice. That it wasn't comforting.

And for the first time, he didn't imagine Mac to be anyone but himself.

They watched some tv after that, the blue glow of the television lulling both men to sleep, and Peter felt content in the moment and more like himself than he had felt in the last couple of days.

But for as many times he was lucid, there were more times he wasn't.

He hallucinated almost daily, seeing environments he hadn't seen in weeks.

When he was in the bathroom he could've swore he was in his high school 2nd floor bathroom, the one he normally ran to when there was a Spiderman emergency. He was confused as he tried to push the swinging door open only for it to not budge. He continued to push on it, utilizing his enhanced strength, and pushed the door right off its hinges. The hallucination evaporated as Electro jumped at the door hitting his back, the doorknob digging into his side, and he whipped around to Peter who stood dumbfounded in the frame.

"Kid, what the fuck?" Maxwell asked, pushing the door off him, allowing it to hit the ground hard. 

"I..." Peter started, not even knowing how to explain, as he was still convinced he had been in school a moment earlier. "The door was stuck."

"So you rip it off?" Maxwell asked incredulously. "Next time just knock and I'll open it for ya."

Peter just nodded, still confused at how he had gotten from school to there, but allowed Max to guide him back to bed. He left Peter, grumbling under his breath, and returned with some power tools and got to work on putting the door back on its frame. 

"Fucking spider bullshit, ripping doors off," Electro hissed lowly as the drill shrieked in the air, pushing the screws back into place. The villain continued to mutter under his breath, looking at the door as if it were the most bothersome thing to exist, and Peter did feel slightly bad but not enough to offer a sincere apology.

Vulture had taken Peter into the living room one afternoon, just to get him out of bed for a bit, and the room had morphed into the living room of his and Aunt May's apartment. He could see her back turned, standing in the kitchen, cooking over the stove and humming a song he couldn't place. He started to walk over to her, relieved to see his aunt again, only to be stopped as Adrian grabbed his arm and yanked him back. The motion sent his vision reeling and he fell to his knees, trying to stop the world from spinning. When his eyesight finally returned he realized he was in Mysterio's living room and had almost walked face first into the kitchen island, and only Toome's pull had stopped him from doing so.

The disappearance of Aunt May had sent Peter over the edge, and he was weeping on the floor within seconds, entirely inconsolable. Adrian tried his best to calm him, but his fevered state made it impossible to do so and Adrian brought him back to the bedroom instead. They hadn't attempted to leave it since.

Aleksei would sit with Peter, singing Russian folk songs softly, as he ran his hand through Peter's hair, slow and soothing. Peter would mostly have his eyes closed during those times, relishing in the feeling and Rhino's low voice, but the times he did look to the man Natasha was sitting there instead. Her voice would be light and heavy all at once, and her eyes soft as she gazed at Peter. The songs sounded sad as she sang and her hand was smooth as it cupped his face. His bedroom shifted until he was lying in Natasha's room, a room he had seen only once before, and he looked to a photo of a ballerina on her nightstand. It was in black and white, and the face was unfamiliar to him, but he remembered Natasha telling him it was a memory she looked back on to remind herself of who she had been.

"Don't you want to forget?" Peter had asked then, nervous that he would upset her as Black Widow was not known for talking about her past. 

She looked at him, face guarded, but eyes gray in their sorrow and said, "Only a selfish fool will willingly forget. You and I don't have that luxury, Peter.... not if we want to be Avengers."

Peter didn't understand the sentiment at the time but now, when it was late at night, and everything was still, he knew exactly what she meant as Daredevil's undead corpse stood at the end of his bed. 

Matt never said anything to him, only stared as Peter looked on in terror. 

The first night it happened he screamed and Martin had hurried into the room, flicking the light on, and rushing to Peter's side. Martin had tried to ask him what was wrong but Peter was babbling, looking wildly back to where Daredevil had been, only for nothing to be there. He was trying to explain but he knew his words didn't make any sense as Martin's questions ceased and he looked at Peter, tiredly. He assured Peter it was just a nightmare, that he was safe, but each night Daredevil returned, looking at Peter with foggy eyes. 

He didn't scream the second time he saw him, just watched the man for the entire night with the covers pulled up to his chin. Daredevil never moved, never spoke.

Never breathed.

He just stared and Peter stared back.

He felt like he was looking into the eyes of the abyss, and the abyss was looking back.

The third night he attempted to talk to Daredevil. He called his name, but Matt never responded. It didn't even seem to resonate with the man as he continued to stand there, gazing at Peter. He managed to fall asleep that night, and when he awoke Daredevil was gone.

The fourth night he tried to touch the man. He crawled down his bed, limbs trembling, and reached a hand forward, trying to grab Matt's own. His fingers wound around Daredevil's palm and he squeezed.

Matt said nothing but goosebumps rose on Peter's arms as Daredevil squeezed back, just enough to let Peter know.

Know that he was still there.

And Daredevil's presence stopped making him shudder after that. It no longer induced fear. He wouldn't say it was a comfort, to see his mentor as a corpse, but he felt almost at ease with Matt's presence. Even though the man never spoke to him. 

But he understood what Natasha meant as he looked into Daredevil's eyes, unseeing and gone. He couldn't forget what he had done to him, or rather what he didn't do for him.

He couldn't forget that the last time he had seen Matt he left him bleeding out in the streets. 

Left him to die.

And he had no one to blame but himself.

The thought didn't help Peter's situation or the fever, as days seemed to go by where Peter was seemingly better, only for him to fall back into its grasp, worse than before.

Mysterio came to visit him often. The days when Peter was lucid enough Mysterio talked a mile a minute, telling him old stories of their battles together from his own perspective. Always leaving out the parts where he had injured Peter, of course, and talked about them as if they were fun. As if they had always been a game.

And Peter wasn't quite sure he remembered it the same way, but the more Mysterio recanted the stories the more Peter started to believe that was what actually happened. His memories turned, shifting into the new ones Mysterio provided, and his weakened state accepted them as fact. 

He liked those days with Mysterio, when the man would just talk to him as if nothing were wrong. It made him feel normal in a way. 

But the days where he was incoherent, shaking in bed, and talking nonsense were the days he didn't like to see Mysterio at all. 

He never mistook Mysterio for someone else during those times. He always saw the man, in a form unlike anything he had seen him in before. Mysterio looked taller and wider, standing over Peter with a presence that made the teenager feel small and vulnerable. His helmet loomed large and Peter could see through it, to Beck's twisted face, teeth sharpened, and eyes black. He could see the monster before him, and it worried him that no one else could.

The first time he had been alone with Mysterio when he slipped into the delusions had been the worst. He had screamed, and grabbed the vase off his bedside table, throwing it right at him.

The man recoiled, body stiff in shock and shouted, "Ouch! Petey, what'd you do that for?" He brushed water and glass off his cape, turning towards Peter, looking for answers. But Peter only saw the monster trying to swallow him whole.

"Stay away!" Peter cried, clambering off the bed and throwing himself against the window, as far away from Mysterio as possible. 

Beck looked at him, and his body relaxed as he realized what was happening. "Spidey, I'm not gonna hurt ya."

"Don't come near me!" Peter yelled, trying to sound intimidating in the face of evil. Mysterio grew larger, his shadow growing with him and slithering around the room. It came near Peter's feet and he yelped as it wound up his legs, capturing them in its grasp. "No! No!" He wailed, struggling against the restraints, trying to throw the darkness off of him to no avail. It crept further up his legs, restricting his torso and Peter's voice withered away into whimpers and sobs as his screeching halted.

The darkness was now at his throat, squeezing and squeezing and Peter felt the air pop from his lungs. He was hyperventilating now as the doctor burst into the room, looking to Mysterio in an absolute fury, but the man didn't seem to notice the look as he stared at Peter, still in shock about what was happening.

Octavius ran to Peter, hands flying over him, looking for any sort of injury as he tried to assess the situation.

"H-he's g-going... t-t-to... k-kill me," Peter gasped in between breaths, tears tacky on his cheeks as he looked to the doctor for help. 

Otto saw the far away look in Peter's eyes, the flush on his skin, and he knew.

"Peter, it's okay. Just breathe alright." Doc Ock said, taking in a deep breath through his nose and exhaling through his mouth. "Do what I do."

He kept miming the breathing practice until Peter started to copy, helping the teenager collect himself and get his panic under control. They sat on the ground for some time, breathing, until Peter's panic subsided. Octavius scooped the boy up and placed him back in bed. He spoke quickly and quietly with Mysterio and after their conversation the man took his leave, not saying anything to Peter on his way out. Otto went into Peter's bathroom and returned with a damp washcloth, placing it over Peter's forehead and eyes, allowing the coolness to help soothe him further.

Peter was shaking, and sobbing lightly, as he still felt the pressure on his neck but Octavius' presence kept him grounded. 

"Don't leave m-me, please." Peter blubbered, unable to see Octavius through the cloth but knew the man was there when he put a hand on Peter's head, and combed gently through his hair.

"I'll never leave you," Doc Ock whispered, using his other hand to rub Peter's shoulder, trying to console him. 

He fell into a light, uneasy sleep a little while after. It was a dreamless, weightless sleep and he was only lifted back up when he heard a voice speak to him.

"I'm sorry, Petey. I truly am." 

Beck sounded far away, unreachable, and Peter was glad he was. He didn't know if he could face him again.

Not right now anyways.

There had been a few other times he had the same reaction to Mysterio, after the initial one, and the Sinister Six had started to accompany him during his visits after that. The hallucinations lessened when other people were present, and his time with Mysterio was better with each visit. 

He stopped becoming the monster, and Peter was unsure why his Spidey Sense tingled every time the man entered the room.

It was as if to warn him of what Mysterio could become, the moment Peter was alone with the man. 

He didn't want to think on it too hard.

In comparison to his time spent with Mysterio, his visits with Doc Ock were much calmer. The man would come to change out Peter's medication, or to try something new to help reduce the fever. The fluids were helping, as Peter spent most of his time sleeping, but the other medications the doctor tried did nothing to improve his condition.

After a few days of switching out medications, Octavius told Peter that nothing was working.

"Peter, I don't think your fever is because of a virus." Otto said, looking serious as he changed out the fluid bag.

"I don't understand... why else would I be sick?" He asked, watching the man as he worked swiftly. 

Octavius' fingers worked deftly, finishing hooking up the bag and tapping the line to get it started, and both of them watched the liquid flow down through the tube and into Peter's veins. He sat back down on the chair that was a permanent fixture in Peter's room now, as each villain took turns sitting in it to watch over Peter. He looked at the teenager, muscles tense, as he prepared himself for a conversation that wouldn't be pleasant for either of them.

"Aleksei said something the other day that has been sitting with me... he said you are unwell... mentally that is." Otto looked away, shame flitting across his features, and Peter shifted uncomfortably in bed.

"He thinks that is the reason for your sickness, and I didn't think so myself at first... but I'm inclined to agree with him now." Doc Ock said, looking at Peter pointedly.

Peter didn't know what to say as he squirmed under the doctor's gaze. He was exhausted and not in the mood for this kind of conversation, honestly was there anything he could say to change his situation? Was there any kind of magic words that would let the doctor release him and return home? Return to May, Ned and MJ? Return to the Avengers and Daredevil?

He doubted it.

"Peter... what can I do to help?" Octavius asked, voice so quiet Peter almost missed the question entirely.

His tongue felt dry, stuck to the roof of his mouth. He felt the heat increase in his cheeks as he mulled the question over. He wasn't sure how to respond, what the right way to answer would be.

If there was a right way to answer.

"I promise you this isn't some kind of trick, this is sincere." Otto continued, never lifting his eyes from Peter's own. "You can ask for anything."

Peter looked back, twisting the blanket between his fingers and spoke the words into existence he had kept buried for weeks to keep himself sane.

"I want to see my aunt." He whispered, gaze dropping and heart beating fast. He didn't dare look at the doctor's expression, scared he would see anger or contempt on the man's face, scared he would see betrayal. 

He had considered how he could be putting Aunt May in danger, risking her safety just because he selfishly wanted to talk with her. Wanted to see her face again, and not just in his dreams.

He had kept these thoughts hidden, even from himself, during his captivity. He knew talking about the Avengers wouldn't put any of them at risk, they all could handle themselves, but May was different. She was just an ordinary person. No powers. No tech.

Just flesh and blood.

If the Sinister Six went after her, she would have no way to defend herself. Nothing to stop them from hurting her.

And the thought terrified Peter, terrified him more than anything else.

He had no doubt the Sinister Six knew about his aunt. They knew his name after all, without him having said it, so he knew they looked him up. They probably knew about his school and MJ and Ned as well. 

But he thought if he didn't talk about May, didn't even speak her name into existence, then they would forget about her. Forget about the life Peter had outside of Spiderman, and their sole attention would be on the Avengers.

It was the only thing Peter could think of to keep his aunt and friends safe. 

To not talk about them. To not even think about them.

And for the most part he did. He was able to keep focus and be Spiderman in some small way. 

But after the room, he couldn't keep the thoughts at bay any longer. And now with the fever, he saw May everywhere. He saw her in his room, in the kitchen, outside of the window.

He saw her when he closed his eyes and sometimes she was with Ben again, and they were happy and whole. And Peter would wake up, grief overpowering his very soul, and he knew he would never get over it. Not until he saw May again.

Not until he could tell his aunt he loves her one last time.

So even though he knew he was putting May in danger, making her a potential target, he couldn't help but ask for his aunt. Couldn't help the thing he desired most to fall past his lips in his weakened state.

He wanted his aunt, so badly it hurt, and this was the only way he could get to see her again. The only shot he had.

So he had to take it.

"Peter," Octavius started and he clenched his eyes shut, already dreading what the doctor would say next. "I can't let you see her in person... but maybe we can arrange a different way."

His heart felt like it stopped. He slowly opened his eyes, gaze lifting to the doctor in what felt like slow motion, and could see the uncertainty on Otto's face. He chewed at his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed, as he thought over Peter's request.

"I can allow you to speak with her for two minutes. I'll set up a phone call... it can't be video. I hope that's okay." Doc Ock said, hesitancy fading.

Peter was tongue tied, mouth gaping open. He quickly snapped it shut and nodded his approval, excitement lacing his every movement. He felt like he was buzzing with electricity and it didn't go away even as the day wore on into night.

Octavius returned later, laying down some ground rules for Peter about the phone call. Things he couldn't talk about, and if he tried anything funny there would be consequences. 

He listened intently, showing Doc Ock he was serious and shakily drank some water, not wanting his throat to be dry when he talked with May. His fever had worsened slightly as the day went on, and he was starting to feel himself lose grip with reality. He wanted to talk to May quick before the delusions set in.

Both of them waited, looking at the burner phone in anticipation, and Peter wiped his sweaty palms on the bedsheets. Martin had been sent out to leave the phone for May with instructions to call the number provided, and now they were just waiting for May to make the call.

Doctor Octopus informed him that Martin would keep an eye on May and if she tried to go to the police or the Avengers, the phone would be taken from her and she would be drugged to forget the encounter. 

Peter blanched at the information, regretting his decision to ask to speak to May. He wanted to take it back, but it was too late now and all he could do was hope May would comply with no issues.

They waited for an hour, in silence, and Peter was starting to feel sleep pulling him down. He felt hot and uncomfortable as he leaned back into the pillows, looking at the phone on the night stand wearily.

He had to stay awake, he knew, but he was blinking back sleep as his eyes started to drift closed. He felt himself being pulled down as the phone rang shrilly, jolting him out of his daze slightly. 

He felt disoriented as Octavius shoved the phone into his hand and said, "Remember our talk, two minutes."

He flipped it open, hitting the call button as he brought the phone to his ear, feeling breathless and overly breathy all at once.

A beat sat between them before "Peter?" was spoken in his ear. 

"Aunt May," Peter whispered, curling in on himself as he gripped the phone so tight his knuckles turned white. "Is that really you?"

May stifled a sob on the other end and Peter couldn't hold back his own as she said, "Oh sweetheart, oh my god. It's me Peter, it's me!"

"Peter, honey, where are you? Where are they keeping you?" Aunt May cried, trying to hold herself together, but Peter could imagine her sinking back against the kitchen cabinets, until she was on the floor. He could see the tears flowing down her cheeks and Peter didn't bother to stifle his own cries as he answered, "Aunt May I-I love you. I love you so much."

May cried further, some rustling sounds flitting over the phone, and she said, "Sweetheart, I love you too, oh Peter... are they hurting you? Please tell me Peter, please. I'm sick thinking about it- I need to know."

Peter choked on his tears, not even seeing Octavius next to him anymore. He was alone in the room, just surrounded by May's presence and May's voice. Everything he needed in that moment was just May.

"I'm okay, I p-promise," He hiccuped. "They're not hurting me."

May continued to cry, her sobs deepening and becoming erratic. "Peter, where are you! Tell me, please. I can come get you, I can send the Avengers-"

Peter cut her off, "I-I can't say. I just wanted to talk with you, please can we talk... w-we don't have much time."

May went quiet for a second, and Peter could see her wiping her face and steeling her expression. Years working as a nurse had helped her deal with her emotions, knowing any minute she would be called back to see a patient and no patient would want to see their nurse weeping in front of them.

"Okay, I understand." May said. "How much time do we have?"

"Not much," Peter winced, tears falling faster. "I-I just needed to hear your voice, know that you're okay."

"Peter..." Aunt May started, going quiet for a second as she collected herself again. "I'm okay, no one has hurt me. I don't want you to worry about me. I know how you worry."

Peter laughed, but it was hollow and he choked again around it. "I do, I-I always worry."

"I know sweetheart... Ned and MJ are okay, too. Ned practically comes here every day to comfort me. He's a good boy." May stated, and Peter could hear the smile in her voice.

Peter bit on his lips to keep the sob from coming out. He could see Ned sitting on their couch, talking with May about inane things during his day to keep her from thinking about him. To keep her from spiraling.

He was so lucky to have Ned as a friend. To have someone who would do that for him.

Thinking of him made his heart hurt more than he thought it would.

"T-tell them I love them please." Peter begged, no longer keeping the cries at bay. He was weeping openly now, tears stinging as they got caught between his eyes and the fabric of the pillow.

"I will," May promised, and he could hear the tears back in her voice as well. 

"A-and tell Uncle Ben, too. I love him and miss him so much." Peter said and May's voice hitched on the other end. "Is he there? C-can I talk to him?"

May went quiet and the only thing that could be heard was her breathing, harsh and unsteady. "Aunt May?" Peter asked, confusion gripping him as the fever took over again. 

He went to ask her again but Octavius' hand came into view, grabbing the phone from Peter. Peter looked up to him, teary-eyed and hurt, and tried to reach for the phone again but one of the doctor's mechanical arms pushed him back down.

Doc Ock raised the phone to his ear, looking conflicted himself as he spoke to May Parker.

"We're going to take care of Peter, I want to assure you of that."

Silence hung in the air until May's voice rang out, words hissing through her teeth. "You stole my child and you want _gratitude_... I won't give it to you."

Peter cried for his aunt, voice pitching but the doctor's free hand came forward to clamp down on Peter's mouth, muffling his cries.

"I don't expect it, but I wanted you to know that he will be alright with us." Otto said, tone even.

"Is that why he thinks his dead uncle is still alive? Cause he's _alright_." May spat and Octavius' blood ran cold.

"I'm not going to make you feel better about kidnapping my nephew and playing house. If you're looking for absolution you've called the wrong person." May went on, strength carrying every word as it pierced Otto's heart. "The moment Peter is found I will never let you near him again. I will never let you even think of my kid again. You're going to rot in a cell for the rest of your days and even then I won't be able to rest until I see your name in the obituaries." May was breathing hard, voice gaining an edge as she said with a finality, "You have destroyed my family and you are destroying my kid. He will never be alright with you. He will never be home with _you_."

Octavius looked at Peter as May's words seeped into his heart and his head. He could feel Peter's tears on his hand as he continued to clamp down on the boy's mouth, could see the desperation in Peter's eyes as he looked to him, _pleading_. Pleading to let him speak with his aunt. To let him say goodbye.

He wanted to give it to him, but May Parker was not making it easy to do so. Still, he owed it to Peter to try.

"Would you like to speak with your nephew again?" Otto asked, voice laced with honey but words sitting like poison.

May said nothing, not giving Doc Ock the satisfaction and he almost hung up then and there, not wanting to entertain a woman who wouldn't even cooperate.

"I'll let you speak with him again tomorrow, granted you don't run to the Avengers first." Peter's eyes widened at the doctor's statement, hopeful, and his struggling lessened.

May paused, tone thoughtful as she responded, "Why would you let me call him again?"

"Because it's what Peter wants, that's all." Octavius answered, sounding bored with the discussion. "Of course if you don't want to this arrangement can end here-"

"-Of course I want to speak with him again." May interrupted, the edge in her voice faltering now. "What do you want me to do?"

Otto smiled, "Just hold onto the phone and don't tell anyone about this call. I'll have someone watching you so if you attempt to inform anyone I'll know and you'll never speak to Peter again."

May sniffled on the other end, taking time to answer. "I can do that."

"Good, then we have a deal. I'll let you say your goodbyes to Peter now, keep it short." Doc Ock said, lifting his hand from Peter's mouth and pressing the phone to the boy's ear.

Octavius couldn't hear what May said to Peter but the boy buried his head deeper into the pillows and whispered, "I love you, I love you." He waited a moment to make sure Peter was done before taking the phone back and saying curtly into the speaker, "Call again tomorrow, same time." He ended the call, flipping the phone shut, and tucking it into his jacket pocket.

Otto looked down at Peter, blankets clenched in his fists, and head buried in the pillows as he lay curled on his side. He was breathing heavily, still crying from the conversation, and his heart ached looking at the state Peter was in.

"Peter, she's going to call tomorrow. You can speak with her again." Octavius said softly, reaching a tentative hand out to place on the boy's shoulder.

Peter startled at the touch, raising his head from the pillows, looking at him with eyes wet from tears and cheeks pink from the fever. He lifted himself up and threw his arms around Octavius' neck.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," Peter mumbled, hugging Otto tightly. 

The doctor returned the hug, smiling in relief as he answered, "Of course, I just want you to be well. I can see you needed this."

Peter nodded, tears still flowing, but the sobs were gone now. "I miss her so much," Peter admitted quietly, squeezing a bit tighter at the confession.

Octavius' hand rested on Peter's head, holding him in place. "I know... you did so well on the call, I'm proud of you." 

Peter relaxed a bit further into the embrace and whispered, "Really?"

Doc Ock pulled him back, wanting to look the boy in the eyes and could see the glassiness within them, knowing he was not entirely there once again. The smile fell from his lips and worry sat in the crevices of his features.

"Yes, I am. I would never lie to you." Octavius said, smiling for Peter's sake, to show him he truly meant it. "You know that."

Peter nodded again, lethargically, and replied, "I know... you remind me of Mr. Stark."

Otto tensed at the name, blood boiling at the comparison, but he didn't let it show on his face. He didn't want to upset Peter, so he played along. "How so?"

Peter smiled, it was light and sincere and it brought out an emotion in Octavius that he couldn't describe.

"You watch out for me like Mr. Stark does. You..." Peter's eyebrows furrowed as he contemplated his next words. "You care for me like he does."

"How does that make you feel?" Otto asked, heart racing as a million possible answers to the question ran through his mind. He knew what he wanted to hear, knew it as well as he knew his own face. But even if he heard what he wanted would it be a real answer? With Peter not quite himself in the moment?

He braced himself for every possibility.

"I... I-I think confused," Peter said, face scrunching up more as he thought about it. "It-It's hard to think about it." Peter confessed, looking at the doctor as if he were seeing him truly for the first time. "I like it sometimes and I don't sometimes... I don't want to think about it c-cause it hurts to think."

"Peter... do you like being here with us, even if it's only sometimes?" Octavius asked, breathless.

Peter paused, gazing at the doctor with uncertainty, but then he lowered his eyes and gave a nod. "I l-like you guys and that's what's confusing for me. If things were different... I-we..." He trailed off, moving forward until he was resting his head on the doctors shoulder, face downcast towards the bed. 

"You don't need to think on it," Doc Ock said, wrapping his arms around Peter once again to pull him in. "It's okay to feel whatever you feel. I don't want you to suppress your emotions. I want to you to be open with us."

"I want that, too." Peter confessed. "I don't want to feel confused."

"It will get better with time... I promise."

Octavius held Peter for a time, allowing him to calm down fully from the events of the night, before asking him if he wanted to sleep. Peter nodded drowsily and the doctor released his grip on him so he could slide back under the covers. 

He waited until Peter fell asleep, before taking his leave and turning off the lights on his way out. 

He made his way to the office to find Adrian in there, playing a game of chess with himself.

The vulture didn't look up from the board as he asked, "How is he? Did he behave?"

Otto took a seat on the couch opposite of Toomes and replied, "He's alright, and he did. He didn't tell his aunt anything that could jeopardize this."

Adrian nodded to himself slightly, moving one of the white pawns forward. "Are you worried about the aunt?"

He frowned, thinking about what May Parker said to him, how her words cut more true than anything the Avengers had said to him. He hadn't planned on speaking with her, but when he saw Peter slipping away, talking to her about his uncle he knew he had to intervene. To keep the boy from further hurting himself with those thoughts, or worse thinking he hurt his aunt in some way when he came to again. 

Talking with May was potentially a mistake. It could rile the woman up, make her seek out assistance in finding her nephew. He knew Martin would stop her if she attempted anything, but he wasn't sure if she had been in constant contact with the Avengers, if they too were keeping tabs on her. He doubted it, knowing Stark would never think they would be idiotic enough to contact Peter's aunt. Especially if they wanted to keep Peter away from his life from before.

Normally, he would've never dreamed of letting Peter speak with May, but the past few days had rattled him. Rattled them all.

Peter wasn't getting better. Seeing him in a constant state of pain was unsettling. And knowing nothing they did was helping made it worse to watch. Days went by with Peter calling them different names, seeing things not there, crying and screaming for someone to help him. For anyone to make it stop.

And none of them could.

Aleksei's words jolted through his mind, shaking him to the very core, and he knew them to be true. That Peter was sick because of them. Because of what they were putting him through.

Because of trauma.

It was hard to admit, even harder to look it in the face, but he had to. For Peter's sake he had to.

So he needed to make some concessions, he needed to do something that would improve Peter's mental state. Even if it was a risk, even if it could be a possible set back in their budding relationship. He had to do it to save Peter first.

Still, it hadn't been easy. Hearing Peter talk with her rattled Octavius further, seeing how much hurt he held in from not seeing his family could make any person see the error in their ways. Could see keeping Peter was not helping him.

But Otto was not like most people, and although his heart did crack seeing the display of emotion, his resolve in keeping Peter from the Avengers remained steadfast. Keeping the teenager away from his aunt just had to be an unfortunate part of the situation.

Unfortunate, but necessary.

He knew from the way she held herself, the way she held herself against him that May Parker would not run to the Avengers. She wouldn't risk being unable to speak with Peter again.

He could tell she was someone who could keep her emotions in check, could see what needed to be done despite how she felt.

May Parker wouldn't be a problem.

For now, anyways.

"I'm not," Octavius answered. "I'm letting her speak with Peter again tomorrow provided she tells no one of the conversation."

Adrian looked up from the board, not looking like he believed she would do so. "How will you know if she does?"

"I have Martin keeping tabs on her right now, I told her we would be watching."

"Mmhm, so do you expect Martin to watch her until tomorrow, too?" Toomes asked.

"No, I want you to relieve him tomorrow morning. Would you be okay with that?" Otto said, looking pointedly at the man, knowing the last question was just for politeness.

The vulture looked back, gaze firm and said, "Of course. I'll do whatever needs to be done."

Octavius nodded. "Good..." He looked out the window, noticing the rain had come in early, trailing down the glass panes almost lazily. "I'm going to get some sleep, I suggest you do the same."

"I will, as soon as I finish my game." Adrian smiled, pulling his attention back to his match. "I'm practicing for the next time Peter and I can play."

Doc Ock smiled softly at that, chuckling lightly under his breath. "Good night, Adrian."

"Good night, Otto."

Octavius left Adrian in the room, as the man moved his knight into check and lighting fell across the black sky.

\-----------------------------------------------

Beck hated the rain. It made his cape water-logged and hard to drag around. It also obscured his vision as trails of water gathered, washing down the front of his dome. Normally he wouldn't wear his costume out when it rained, let alone do any kind of crime-related activity during those days. He wondered if Peter ever noticed that pattern when he was Spiderman?

Normally he wouldn't, but he was due for a heist after spending some time cooped up in his apartment. 

Spending time with his peers and Peter had really started to diminish his finances. Especially since he was paying for all of the food. 

Which he didn't mind, really. He was hosting after all, and a good host always feeds their guests. 

But with the way Mac and Peter ate, he was spending more money on food than he's ever spent before, and while he could rob a grocery store it didn't have the exact pizazz as robbing rich people did.

He was a showman after all.

He stood on a rooftop in Tribeca, looking down into the windows of his next target. He was waiting for the husband to leave, as he was saying his goodbyes to his wife, so that he could swoop in and hypnotize the wife. She was some kind of actress, so all of the money was in her name, and once she was under Beck's control she would transfer a sum of money that would practically be undetectable to her husband. Not enough to make a dent in their savings, but enough to tide Beck over for a while. They would be the none the wiser that Mysterio had robbed them and he wanted to keep it that way.

Normally, he would take everything from them, would probably broadcast himself doing it, but with the Avengers closing in he couldn't risk them turning their sites on him. They hadn't figured out yet he was involved in Spiderman's disappearance and he wanted to keep it that way.

He brought a drone with him, to help conceal him as he made his move, knowing it would keep him hidden from any CCTV cameras that the Avengers may have access to.

The husband was down in the lobby now, and the valet was going to grab his car. Once he drove away Mysterio would make his move. 

He really wanted to get out of the fucking rain.

The roar of an engine caught his attention, but it wasn't from the husband's car. It was coming from the sky.

He looked up, seeing two red dots flying towards him and his stomach plummeted, thinking it was Tony Stark. But there was no way Stark could see him with the drone, no way for him to know he was there.

Still, he wouldn't risk it. He gathered his soaking cape in his hands, ready to make a run for it when a cackle crackled through the stormy night like lightning through the sky.

"No need to run, old friend!" The voice jeered as the red dots grew closer. "I only came to talk."

A glider swept into view, slowing its descent as the Green Goblin hopped off it and stalked towards Mysterio.

"Gobby?" Mysterio asked, baffled the man was before him. "What are you doing here?"

"Like I said... I came to talk." The Green Goblin responded, yellow eyes glowing eerily in the dim of night.

"Wait... you can see me? You must have read the beginners guide to magic book I gave you for Christmas!" Mysterio clapped, dropping his cape as he did so.

He couldn't see the goblin's eyes but he imagined the man to be rolling them as he answered, "I burned that book in front of you."

"Oh yeah..." Mysterio's shoulders slumped at the memory. "Then how can you see me? I'm cloaking myself right now."

The goblin took a step forward and it took Mysterio everything he had not to take one step back. The man's aura was shifting now, no longer playful as he glared at Beck.

"With technology that you stole from Oscorp, correct?" Goblin ask, voice teetering on madness.

"Well stole is a harsh word, Gobby... _borrowed_ is more polite I think-"

"-You've upset Norman Osborn Mysterio... upset him greatly." The green goblin continued, taking another step forward.

This time Mysterio did take one back, getting closer to the edge of the rooftop. 

"Awww that old coot, he'd be upset if I picked up a penny from the sidewalk before he did! He's always upset Gobby." Mysterio waved away the goblin's concerns, trying to ascertain what his fellow villain was getting at. "You can't take him seriously."

"Don't tell me what to take seriously!" The man yelled, stomping forward now, his movements almost electric against the plummeting rain. "You stole from the wrong man this time!"

Mysterio moved out of the man's grasp, trying to disappear in a puff of smoke but the goblin's hand shot out, pushing Mysterio off the building before he could fully disappear. 

Beck fell, the drone shooting forward at the last second to catch him before he slammed against the adjacent rooftop, slightly lower than the one he had been standing on before. The drone's arm lowered him to the ground and he catapulted up just as the goblin jumped down, feet slapping water onto Mysterio's costume.

"Well that wasn't very nice!" Mysterio huffed, mind running a mile a minute. "Since when have you cared about Norman Osborn Gobby?"

"We have a very intimate relationship," The Green Goblin cackled, his laugh sending shivers down Mysterio's spine.

He messed with the remote that controlled the drone inside his pocket as he taunted, "I didn't think Norman was your type... but you know what they say psychopaths attract other psychopaths."

The goblin growled and was about to lunge forward when the drone trained a red dot right between the goblin's yellow eyes. "Gobby I'd like to maintain our friendship, truly, but that means communication. You have to tell me why you're so upset if we're going to work through this!"

The goblin stilled, chest heaving as he stared at Mysterio, silent for a moment, before raising his hands in surrender.

"I got ahead of myself, Mysterio. I came here to talk like I said." The goblin said, smirk evident in his tone.

"Talk? You have my number, you could've just called. No need to come all the way down here to see little ol' me!" Beck answered, keeping his voice light and playful as he tried to navigate the conversation best he could.

Beck was no idiot when it came to his antics and the way he presented himself. He had spent much of his childhood trying to please a disapproving father, so much so that he toned down his personality to be the perfect amenable child. He never laughed, never cracked any jokes. Was always pleasant and polite.

And it got him no where.

His father didn't love him any more than before, and his art suffered because of it.

He spent years being polite and courteous, never saying what he wanted, but the one thing it taught him was how to be cunning and malicious.

So he took the best parts of those years and used them to further his academic career. He learned how to build and perfect his creations, how to make the best special effects and was able to use all of his classmates to help him advance, without them even knowing.

He graduated top of his class, and soon enough became a worldwide known special effects artist. He achieved everything he ever wanted.

Except it was still not enough. 

He didn't know why it wasn't for years, and it only came to him when his girlfriend at the time broke up with him. When he asked her why, she said, "You're a nice guy Quentin... but you're so boring. I feel like I've never even heard you tell a joke before."

And the moment shattered the pleasant facade. The boring Quentin Beck his father had forced him to become.

He knew deep down he wasn't pleasant, he wasn't polite.

He was none of those things and he was tired of pretending to be so.

He wanted to be different, something unexpected and extraordinary all at once.

He wanted to be mysterious.

And through that thought Mysterio was born and Quentin Beck was dead. His true self was finally there for all to see. He combined his cunning and malice with his knowledge of special effects to create a villain, someone that was always in the spotlight. Someone that could finally and truly be seen for once.

It felt like his destiny had finally come.

And with it came his personality. The joking, never serious, never stuffy Mysterio was fun to be around. Was always full of jokes, and most importantly was always unpredictable.

The only person that made Mysterio feel unsure about his persona was the Green Goblin.

The Goblin thought of himself as fun, thought of himself as unpredictable but Beck knew what he truly was.

A madman.

The man was unhinged, and it was no more apparent than in this moment as he stood practically laughing at Mysterio pointing a gun at the man.

Sure the Green Goblin was his peer in all senses of the term, but the man always took Mysterio back to his childhood, when he had been so scared of the world and of himself. He brought him back to the man he thought he killed long ago and he hated feeling that way.

Even his antics couldn't hide his unease as he faced off with a man he never thought he would have to.

"I felt as if this conversation should be face to face." The Goblin said, tone as friendly as if they were discussing the weather.

"Well, it's not a great time Gobby! I'm just about to go on a date, I've got a great girl waiting for me-"

"-I'm sure she wouldn't mind waiting while two old friends catch up." Goblin chuckled, low and dark.

Mysterio huffed, crossing his arms, and tapping his foot. "Fine, what do you want to talk about?"

The goblin lowered his hands but didn't make a move forward as the drone's gun was still trained on him. "I want to make a deal."

"A deal? You want something from me? Why, I'm flattered!" Mysterio laughed, feeling confident now at the turn in conversation. "You always said you would never want anything from a half-rate magicia-"

"-Times have changed it seems," The Green Goblin interrupted. "Will you hear me out?"

Mysterio looked at him before nodding jovially. "Of course, anything for a friend, even ones that burn Christmas gifts."

Lightning crackled through the sky, lighting the rooftop in a brilliance of blue light that made the goblin's yellow eyes glow even brighter as he proposed, "I'll let you keep Norman Osborn's drones in exchange for Spiderman."

Mysterio's paused before laughing, loud and humorous. He bent over, unable to control the outburst and surprisingly the goblin didn't move from his spot or look bothered by the reaction. He stood tall and confident and waited for Mysterio to collect himself.

"Oh Gobby you are too funny! Really you should do stand up..." Mysterio wiped fake tears from his helmet. "I don't understand your deal, any part of it actually."

"It's just as I said Mysterio, I'll allow to you to keep the Oscorp drones if you give me Spiderman."

"Gobby... you're talking nonsense. First off, I have the drones now so you can't bargain with what you don't have and second, I don't have Spiderman. I imagine he's dead in a ditch somewhere-"

"-He's not dead," The Goblin cut him off. "I know he's alive... I know he's staying with you at your apartment along with our other friends... I know that you're taking caring of him... I know that you've been giving him flowers in a sad attempt to win him over... I know that you care _for_ him." 

Mysterio blanched, the words sitting in the air like poison, seeping into his skin and making his blood run cold. The rain fell heavier, weighing him down, and chilling his bones.

He felt like the world stopped turning as the goblin finished, "And I know all of this because of Osborn's drones."

The red light that had been trained on the goblin's forehead now turned, focusing its aim on Mysterio. The red light reflected off the glass dome and fractured through it, casting red shadows across Beck's line of vision.

Mysterio swallowed and his words almost got lost in the sound of the rain, "How... how are you..."

"Controlling the drones?" The goblin finished, now striding forward, confident as Mysterio stayed locked in place, the gun's line of sight never wavering from its new target. "You really thought you could fully reprogram them? That there wouldn't be a reset button that Osborn could activate? I never knew you to be a naive man Quentin."

Anger coursed through Mysterio at the mention of his name, and fear mingled with the feeling. The only other person who knew his name was Adrian and he knew the man would never tell the Goblin his identity, even as much as he distrusted him. No... the goblin must have figured it out. He clearly had been watching them through the drones for quite some time. He had to have seen him take the helmet off at some point, ran facial recognition software on him.

Probably knew everything there was to know about him.

If he didn't feel sick before he did now.

"So it seems I have my bargaining chip after all." The goblin said, joy in his voice, twisted as it was.

Mysterio said nothing, trying to process the situation and the potential outcomes. He needed time to think but it seems as if his supposed friend wasn't going to give him any.

"I'll return control of the drones to you, fully this time, if you give me Spiderman." The goblin continued, circling Mysterio slowly. 

"Why not take him yourself? You clearly know where he is." Mysterio asked, trying to stall as he weighed his options.

Beck fell forward with a grunt as the goblin punched him in the back, causing him to land on his knees. "I'd rather not get into a fight with my colleagues, they seem rather attached to the boy. And even with the drones I'm just one man... it's a fight I couldn't win, but you already know that. Asking stupid questions is beneath you."

Mysterio breathed hard, trying to keep the anger at bay, it would only cloud his judgement. Only the goblin could make him feel this way, untethered and unsure of himself. Not even his fights against Spiderman ever made him feel this way. Those fights had always been fun and exciting.

This one felt like if Beck said the wrong thing it would end with his brain splattered on the rooftop.

Nothing really fun about that.

"Alright, I won't ask any then." Beck said through gritted teeth. "Let's say I bring Spiderman to you. Then what? You think the Sinister Six won't come after me? They'll kill me for betraying them."

"Oh they will want to," Goblin cackled and the sound reverberated through Mysterio's dome. "But with the drones you can hide from them. They'll never be able to find you. You'll finally be free of the burden of Spiderman. You won't have to look over your shoulder for the Avengers at every possible turn-"

"-No, but I will have to look over my shoulder for the Sinister Six who will definitely _kill_ me. The Avengers won't. I like a good party as much as the next guy Gobby but not with the main course being my head on a plate!"

"... always full of jokes." The goblin kicked him, sending him toppling over, close to the edge of the rooftop. Before Mysterio could collect himself the Green Goblin grabbed his collar yanking the man to his feet as he dangled him off the edge of the building, only the looming street beneath him now. "I'll sweeten the deal for you, I'll take the full blame for Spiderman's disappearance. Use the drones to create an illusion of me taking the boy from his bed, they'll be none the wiser. You can keep your head attached to your shoulders."

"Like you said... I care for Spidey so why would I give him to you?" Mysterio asked, trying not to show how frightened he was. If the goblin dropped him he was done for, he had no more tricks to get him out of his predicament and the drone wouldn't catch him this time. There was no way around it.

If the goblin dropped him he would die.

And Mysterio very much did not want to die.

"I can see you care for the boy... maybe the first time you've ever cared for anyone but yourself." The goblin sneered shaking Mysterio slightly. "But I know you Quentin Beck and I know you care about yourself more. I'm offering you your life back with the addition of the greatest technology to cast your illusions. You'll live in a world with your reputation in tact and no Spiderman to stop you. You'll have the Sinister Six on your side and the Avengers off your back. You'll have everything you've ever wanted... are you really going to throw that away for a brat that you barely know?"

Mysterio was grabbing at the goblin's hand, desperately trying to hold on in case the man decided to let go and up close now he could see the actual eyes of the green goblin behind the yellow lenses and he could see the true madness in them.

Could see the victory in them.

Because the man already knew how Beck would answer. 

"What are you going to do with Spiderman?" Mysterio asked.

Lightning shot across the sky again as the Green Goblin answered, "Does it matter?"

Thunder boomed in the air, its sound beating in Mysterio's chest, in tune with his heartbeat.

Mysterio hung his head, shaking as he answered honestly, "No... it doesn't."

The Green Goblin laughed and lowered Beck down onto the rooftop, the rain pouring down harder as it bounced off both men's helmets. And in the face of mother nature, relentless in her fury, Quentin Beck made a deal with the devil.

"I'll bring you Spiderman."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter, it's longer than normal but there was a lot to cover. Let me know your thoughts ^^


	24. Hide Your Fires

_"Stars hide your fires; let not light see my black and deep desires: The eyes wink at the hand; yet let that be which the eye fears, when it is done, to see"_ -Shakespeare, Macbeth

May stood in the kitchen, burner phone so heavy in her grip it felt like it took all of her strength to keep it pressed to her ear. A dull roar resounded in her ear drums, pulsing along with her heartbeat and feeling incredibly reminiscent of the ocean.

But it didn't bring her peace, as the sound of the waves often did, instead it caused her to tremble as she desperately clung on to her nephews words crackling over the phone.

"I love you, I love you."

She could hear the strain in Peter's voice, despite the roar now encasing her, and before she could even think to respond the familiar dial tone came through, its finality more profound than even Peter's words of affirmation.

She stood there, phone still pressed to her ear, dial tone joining in with the roar, and she felt her whole world collapse beneath her.

Again.

May was no stranger to tragedy. In fact, she was quite familiar with it.

Tragedy sat at her kitchen table, joining her for breakfast, and bringing her wilted flowers on the days it wanted to be heard.

She knew tragedy as well as she knew the outline of her nephew's face, as well as she knew Ben's eyes, and as well as she knew heartbreak.

It was no stranger, but it wasn't welcome either.

To the surprise of some, her world didn't end the day of Richard and Mary's deaths. She was grief-stricken sure, and scared of taking in Peter, who was only 4 at the time, but she had to be strong for her husband and her nephew. She had to become a mother to a boy she had already been a pseudo mother to before, and she had to support her husband who lost his brother and sister-in-law in one fell swoop.

There wasn't time for her world to end, when the men in her lives had their own cataclysmic apocalypse to deal with. She needed to keep it together for their sakes.

And she did.

Her and Ben's relationship was stronger than ever and Peter viewed both of them as his parents, not quite remembering his own. He told her one day that he couldn't even remember what hair color his mother had without looking at old photos and that he wasn't sure if the fact made him sad or not.

It made May sad, but she didn't say that to her nephew. She only smiled and told him that what his parents looked like was irrelevant, it was how Peter felt about them that mattered. That they loved him with everything in their beings and that kind of love doesn't fade with death.

It stays.

And May really believed that. That real, true love could transcend time and space. Could be in the world _somewhere and somehow_ , still clinging to reality.

She had to believe that because it was the only thing keeping her tethered when Ben died.

A police officer had called the house, telling her what happened, and the world opened up beneath her feet, swallowing her whole. She was weightless as she floated in an abyss of grief and suffering, and her only lifeline was the love of Ben and Peter's clammy hand on hers.

They sat in the precinct, speaking with police officers and lawyers, trying to find the next step in their tragedy.

But the steps were crumbling and came way beneath each attempt May made to climb out of the hole.

She dealt with lawyers and morticians, putting Ben's affairs in order and planning the funeral. It was a whirlwind of meetings and plans and she got so caught up in it she hadn't even had time to try and really talk with Peter.

He had witnessed the murder, and was at the police station before she even arrived. He had given his statement and description of the man who murdered Ben Parker and after that had fallen silent. The tears had long since dried and only shock remained. His face was paler than she had ever seen it, and his freckles that normally looked cute splattered across the bridge of his nose and cheeks stood out like a sickness overtaking him, too gaunt and haunting to look natural.

He didn't talk much after that day and May wanted to put him in therapy, but with the bills from the lawyers and funeral home it was impossible to do so. They piled onto the already other unpaid bills and there was no feasible way May could swindle it. She went to his school, begging the school guidance counselor to help him, to talk to him about what happened. The counselor told her she already tried talking with Peter and he had said nothing in return. She said it was beyond her expertise and that Peter needed real professional help. May could see the sorrow in her eyes, but she didn't have time for another's sorrow. 

She only had time for her and Peter's.

Peter would return late at night, sneaking in through his bedroom window, and would curl up on his bed, sobbing quietly into the pillow. With the thin walls of the apartment May always heard, and her heart always shattered a bit more at the sound of her nephews cries. They mirrored her own, and she wondered if they would ever heal from this grief that was so overpowering it weighed down their entire apartment.

The air was dark and heavy, and it always felt like she couldn't breathe properly. She had almost drowned as a child once, but that time felt like nothing to the way she felt now. She was underwater and there was no light pulling her towards the surface.

The drowning felt like it would never go away.

A week after Ben's death, though, the murderer was caught by a new vigilante, she believed the news anchor called the hero Spiderman. The man was found tied up in webs outside of the 42nd precinct with a full confession caught on tape, conveniently webbed to the killer. 

May watched the tv, falling to the ground, with hot tears rolling down her face. She didn't realize how much stress she had been holding over this man, this man who had stolen her world from her, and now that he was behind bars she couldn't help but laugh. She sat on her living room floor laughing and sobbing and it felt like the beginning of something new for her and Peter.

After the man was caught Peter started talking again, and the weight that hung over their apartment started to lift, ever so slightly. And for the first time in a week May felt like she could breathe again.

Peter was back to his old self in no time, and Ben's funeral had been one full of grief but also hope. It was the funeral she knew Ben would've wanted and she felt like she could rest. Like all the Parkers finally could.

Peter still snuck out, or came up with excuses on why he was running late. May was no fool, and realized the excuses her nephew gave were bullshit, but she didn't press him on it. She was young once and had done her fair share of sneaking out, so she didn't want to come down as overbearing. She told him that if he ever needed her to come get him, no matter the time, she would do so. It didn't matter what he was doing or who he was with, she would come get him and she would never be angry or judgmental about it. Peter had flushed and told her she misunderstood but May had just given him a knowing smile instead.

She thought her nephew was out partying with his friends. Never in a million years would she have guessed he was out protecting New York as Spiderman.

Peter had crawled in through his bedroom window, still adorning the red and blue spandex, and had taken off his mask in his room, thinking himself safe to do so.

Clearly he had never seen May Parker enraged before.

Their argument was heated and passionate and it lasted several days. Peter profusely apologized for keeping Spiderman a secret from her, and May told him he was never going to be Spiderman again. That it was too dangerous and out of the question. Peter had protested saying the people of New York needed him, that he had a duty to protect them.

Frankly, May didn't care about the people of New York. She cared about her nephew. She cared about her _son_.

And it wasn't a teenager's responsibility to protect people from the every day dangers of the city. It wasn't worth the risk to his own safety and well being.

The people of New York be damned.

She saw the footage of the fight between Peter and the villain they called the Vulture. Saw the snippets of her nephew being attacked, nearly killed, all just to defend a plane full of Avengers tech.

A plane full of worthless garbage in her opinion.

Nothing in that plane was worth even a _fraction_ of Peter's life and the fact he believed that was troubling to her.

Peter had no regard for his own life and there was no way May could condone him donning the Spiderman suit and going out to play hero. Not when he was reckless, and didn't care either way.

No, he wouldn't be Spiderman again. She would sooner burn the suit than let him put it on.

Peter had explained to her about the spider bite, how he gained his powers. He showed her his wall climbing abilities, his super strength, and explained his healing factor. He even tried to tell her about something he called his "Spidey Sense" but May couldn't even begin to wrap her head around that.

The one thing, weirdly enough, that did give her pause about Peter's explanation was his suit. Peter was smart, and was capable of making his web shooters, but the suit was high tech. Too high tech for a high school student to make.

Even if Peter did have the engineering capabilities of making such a suit, he didn't have the resources. There was no way he made that on his own.

So when May asked him who gave him the suit, Peter clammed up so quick that it only enraged her further.

They were arguing about it with the tv on in the background and Peter, in the middle of a sentence, lost his train of thought as a news segment came on.

_"Tony Stark will make an appearance tonight at the MET in support of a notable charity trying to secure enough donations for their..."_

May caught Peter's line of sight and turned around to stare at the smiling face on Ironman on her screen. She turned back to Peter and watched they way he gulped, shifted his weight, and she knew without a shadow of a doubt.

Her eyes narrowed and anger, unlike anything she had ever felt before, ignited her every movement as she grabbed Peter and headed straight to Avengers Tower.

After an awkward, tense silence on the two subway rides over May Parker was storming into the reception area of Avengers Tower with a panicking Peter by her side.

She strode up to the front desk, startling a young blonde woman, as she looked up from her computer to stare into the face of pure fury.

"I need to speak with Tony Stark _now_." May hissed, blood boiling, and face red with anger. 

Any other time she was sure she would've been laughed out of the building, but the receptionist seemed to realize she wasn't joking as she moved to press a button under the desk to call for security.

Her painted fingernail almost grazed it before a voice sounded over the intercom.

"Let em up, April."

April jumped at Tony Stark's voice, and looked wide-eyed at May and Peter, and May could tell that the woman was wondering exactly who they were. She doubted Tony ever spoke to April otherwise.

April, with all the grace she could muster in a situation like this, led them to the elevator and entered a combination of numbers that would take them to the top floor of the tower. 

The ride up was deathly quiet and the air seemed to be sucked out of the room entirely the moment the doors opened and Tony Stark stood before them, dressed in his tux, and no doubt on his way to whatever charity event he was throwing his money at.

The extravagance of it all further added to the growing pit in May's stomach and she couldn't stop the hatred seething off her as Tony coughed uncomfortably and said, "I would say it's a pleasure to meet you but I'm sure the sentiment wouldn't be returned."

"It seems you've made a decision including _my_ child that I wasn't aware of, and I think it's long overdue that I be included in the discussion." May hissed, and instinctively pushed Peter behind her as he made to put himself in between the two. 

Tony, looking only slightly frazzled at May's presence, nodded and motioned for them to follow him. He started walking down the hall but May's echoing voice stopped him. "We can talk right here."

He looked mildly impressed at her, standing steadfast in front of Ironman, and walked back to the foyer, waiting for May to say her piece.

"What gives you the right to put my nephew in harms way," May started, words hissing through her teeth like a snake hissing at its prey. "Did you realize he was a child when you gave him the suit? Did you know Stark?"

"I'm not a child," Peter mumbled, only for May and Tony to snap at him, "Be quiet, Peter."

Tony shifted his weight, but settled himself as he gazed at May, a bit of guilt brimming in his eyes. "I did know."

She laughed, a loud and choked one, and prattled on, "You knew? So you're just okay with a child playing hero in the streets? Okay with a child almost getting killed trying to save a plane full of _your_ technology! You don't care do you... you don't care because you're a selfish prick!"

Before Tony could respond May kept going, the words tumbling so quick out of her mouth she wasn't even quite sure what she was saying. "Do you know his uncle died? That his uncle was killed by someone like the people you are sending my nephew after every day he parades around as Spiderman! Every day he's out there the chances of him getting hurt, kidnapped, or killed grows higher. Every day the likelihood of him not coming home grows _fucking_ higher!" 

She was screeching now, sounding hysterical to even her own ears, but she couldn't stop. She couldn't stop laying out every fear, every piece of herself that was angry and hurt. Laying it all bare so that someone else could finally pick it up and take it from her.

Finally take the tragedy away from her.

Let is sit at someone else's kitchen table for once. 

"You are never to come near my kid again and if I so much as see a goddamn text from you, I will sue you for child endangerment. I will find a lawyer that's been wanting to take down the great Tony Stark for years and come after you with everything I have. You better stay away from us, stay away from Peter!" May spoke with a finality that rippled through the room, capturing everyone in its power.

She grabbed Peter's arm, dragging him back towards the elevator but she met resistance as she tugged.

Peter stood, eyes somber but alight with their own anger as he pulled back against his aunt's grasp.

She knew he was strong, but she never would've thought that Peter would use it on her. Would not do as she says.

She looked to her nephew, confused, as Peter finally spoke up.

"That's not fair Aunt May, it's not fair of you to blame Mr. Stark! I was Spiderman long before Mr. Stark gave me the suit. I was just using some old sweats and I was more in danger then than I am now. Mr. Stark designed the suit to keep me safe, and he's been training me to help me understand my abilities better. He doesn't get to tell me not to be Spiderman... and neither do you." Peter's voice grew quieter as he confronted the only family he had left in the world. The only ties to his parents and to Ben. 

The only person who truly loved him unconditionally.

"I am Spiderman. It's who I am and nothing you can say will change that."

May looked at Peter as if she were seeing him for the first time. He stood tall and his eyes were set with determination, but still somehow held all the love in the world for her. His eyes were just like Ben's and the image of her husband settled over Peter and she couldn't stop the tears sliding down her face.

Couldn't stop the fear that was always encroaching to finally come to shore.

"Peter if you continue down this path, there will come a day where you won't come home. You're forcing me to lose the only family I have left." 

The color from Peter's face drained and his determination wavered. She felt instantly guilty the moment she said it and wished she could take it back. She didn't mean to make the situation about her. It wasn't about her.

It was about Peter. It was about his safety.

But she couldn't help but feel the truth to her words, no matter how despicable they were to say aloud. 

She was terrified, terrified of losing her nephew. No... her son. Her child. 

Losing everything, and being left behind to deal with the fallout. She knew she couldn't handle it.

She had been strong when Richard and Mary died. She had kept it together the best she could when Ben died.

She would crumble away if Peter died.

And seeing him in the Spiderman suit had shaken her very foundation. 

The world was splitting open again and the ground was quickly breaking away underneath her feet. She needed something to find purchase on, to find something to keep her from falling. She didn't know how many times she could handle falling.

"I would never let anything happen to your nephew." Tony said, taking a step forward, and May drew her attention away from Peter briefly to look at the man. "I can walk you through every facet of the suit and its safety measures if that will help you. Like the kid said, he was Spiderman way before I stepped in, and I only want to make sure he continues doing that as safely as he can... your nephew is a hero, it's who he is, and as long as I'm breathing nothing bad will happen to him."

May looked at him, incredulous, but didn't have the energy to tell him to shove it up his ass.

She only turned on her heels and grabbed Peter once again, and this time he didn't resist. She moved them into the elevator, mashing the first floor button furiously and glared at Tony as the doors closed. He didn't look shocked by her reaction but he did look regretful. Regretful of what she wasn't sure.

The ride home was quiet and tense again, and May knew she looked like an insane woman on the subway with her hair mussed and eyes rimmed red, but she didn't care. She didn't care about anything but her nephew in that moment.

They entered the apartment, the living room darkened as day shifted to night, and the silver moon twinkled outside their window, bringing in a whimsy May wasn't in the mood for.

She turned the lock, and froze when Peter spoke.

"I let Uncle Ben's killer get away."

She turned slowly, hand trembling and heart rattling in her chest as she looked to Peter, framed in silver and glowing.

"I had Uncle Ben drop me off at the library one day... except I wasn't really going to the library. I was going to a wrestling match to test out my powers and to win some money." Peter began, face downcast and unreadable in the dark.

"We argued before I left... I honestly don't even remember about what but I just know that I was so mean to him. I was trying to hurt him... and I think I did. I told him he wasn't really my father and he should stop acting like it."

May caught sight of a tear as it fell from Peter's eyes, glinting in the moonlight, and hitting the carpet silently.

"I went to the match and won. I met with the manager to collect my money but he gipped me. He only gave me a quarter of what I won... I was so mad. So angry because he made me feel so small, so when I was walking to the elevator I heard shouting. The manager was telling me to stop a guy who just robbed him, but I didn't want to... I let the guy get into the elevator and he thanked me for helping him out. I felt smug about it, that the manager had been robbed after he stiffed me. I was happy he got robbed."

"I left and heard screaming down the street..." Peter was breathing hard now, wrapping his arms around his stomach as he continued on with the story. "I saw the man I had let go run away and a man in the street... I... I saw Uncle Ben in the street, bleeding. He was shot.... he got shot trying to stop the man I let go!"

Peter collapsed to his knees and May rushed forward, wrapping her arms around Peter, her own tears joining Peter's on the carpeted floor.

"He was so scared Aunt May! He was so terrified and he kept calling for me and I... I-I couldn't do anything. I couldn't do anything as Uncle Ben died! And he didn't even know... he didn't even know that it was my fault! It's my fault he's not here right now. If I had done the right thing and stopped that guy Uncle Ben would still be alive!" Peter was wailing now, throat hoarse. 

"So I have to be Spiderman Aunt May... I have to! It's the only way I can atone for what I did. It's the only thing I can do to carry on Uncle Ben's memory. To take responsibility for what I did!"

May pulled Peter back so she could look him in the eye, and said with a fierceness that shook her. "You are not responsible for Ben's death. That man is, and he alone has to live with what he did... Peter Benjamin Parker you are a good person. You have always been a good person."

She choked on her next words as a sob bubbled out. "Uncle Ben would be so proud of the person you've become... of the person you're trying to be every day. I see so much of him in you Peter, so much that it hurts sometimes."

She clenched her eyes shut as Peter heaved out a sob of his own. 

"I miss Ben every day, but I feel his love every day, too. He's not gone, Peter. Not truly. He's always with us... and he wouldn't want you to carry around this hurt. He wouldn't want you to blame yourself for what happened. _I_ don't want you to blame yourself!"

Peter threw his arms around May, hugging her as if his life depending on it. "I miss him so much, May!"

She wept as she hugged her nephew back. "I do too, sweetheart. It's okay to miss him."

They stayed like that for a while, awash in the blues and silvers of the night, swirling around them as they wept for a man they both loved dearly. They wept for each other. And they wept for all of the anguish in their lives.

It was something they never confronted together, never acknowledged one another's pain.

But now that it was there, they both saw how much of the same pain they had been carrying alone, not wanting to burden the other with it.

And May had never felt closer to Peter, and Peter with May.

They were the only family each other had left, and that meant more than anything else in this world.

The next morning they talked further about Spiderman. They talked openly and calmly about what it meant and where they could go from there.

May still had her trepidations, of course, but Peter proposed talking with Tony Stark once more and she agreed.

This time Tony came to her, and it was strange having a billionaire sitting on her springy couch, drinking her cheap tea, and complimenting her decorations.

It was absurd, and the absurdity of the situation helped her keep her head as they discussed the boundaries that needed to be in place.

Tony walked her through the suit, like he said he would, and she couldn't say she wasn't impressed by how much thought the man put into the design. All of the bases were covered, there was even a heater in the suit for christsake.

He showed her the tracker he installed in the suit, and she even was able to speak with the AI that helped Peter as Spiderman. 

"You named her Karen?" May asked him, and he cracked a grin as he shrugged. "She seemed like a Karen."

They talked for a while with the rules finally coming into place.

May was to get alerts sent to her phone anytime Peter put the suit on, and where his exact location was. 

Peter had to always answer her calls, unless it was dangerous to do so in the moment. 

School could not fall to the wayward side, and it would remain Peter's main priority, which he had sucked his teeth at but didn't fight her on.

Tony would inform her any time Peter was at the tower, or being asked on a specific Avengers mission. Both she had to approve of before he could do so.

Karen had to send her updates about Peter's time as Spiderman, no exceptions. 

After she laid out her rules, Tony had agreed almost immediately and Peter did as well, with only a moments hesitation. 

During that couple of hours together, she noticed the way Peter looked at Tony. The admiration in his gaze, the bright eyed look any time Tony complimented him.

But it was more than just being star struck by his hero.

She noticed the subtleness, the way Tony ruffled his hair when he thought she wasn't looking and the way Peter beamed at him.

He looked at Tony the same way he used to look at Ben.

And everything about the situation came together for her, and she would be lying if she didn't say she felt some heartbreak.

She was sad that Peter would never be able to look that way at Ben again. Never gaze at her husband so happy and admiring.

Peter always looked up to Ben, always saw Ben as his real father.

And now he looked at Tony Stark in such a similar way, and it made her heart ache.

When their discussion was finished May walked Tony out and asked him, "What is your exact relationship with Peter?"

Ironman had quirked an eyebrow at that, "He's a protégé of sorts, technically my intern I suppose. That's our cover story anyways."

"And that's all?" She pressed, arms crossed and no mirth in her tone.

"You seem to think there's more." He said.

"He admires you... a lot." She said, choosing her words carefully, knowing most likely Peter was listening in on the conversation. She would have to get used to his enhanced senses.

"Well there's a lot to admire," He winked and May's eyes narrowed. He coughed, and straightened his jacket. "I know he does, he's a great kid. I like having him around. He's a bit of a smartass but I actually like that quality in people."

May cracked a smile at that but let it fall as her tone grew serious. "You have a responsibility towards his well being," Tony made to interrupt her but she put a finger up as she continued, "And not just his physical well being, his emotional too."

Tony's mouth snapped shut and confusion lifted his expression, but he said nothing and waited for May to finish.

"If you hurt my kid in anyway, Tony Stark, there's nothing in this world keeping me from coming after you."

He gazed at her, solemnly for once, before smiling and saying, "I would expect nothing less... I promise to take care of him. You have my word."

With that said he left, allowing the Ironman suit to engulf him as he took off into the sky, drawing the attention of nearby pedestrians. 

And that was the start of May's strange relationship with Ironman, and slowly coming to terms with Peter's role as New York's very own web slinger.

The worry never ceased though as she became obsessed with checking her phone every time she got an alert that Peter put on the suit. She called him more than she ever had before, and knew that she was annoying her nephew through all of her incessant check ins.

But he never once complained and the dynamic became a fixture in their daily lives.

May grew closer with Tony during that year, and stopped being distrustful of him when he saved Peter from a gunshot wound and wound up in the hospital himself because of it. It was then that she knew, for all of Tony Stark's bravado, that his word was true.

He would die before he saw Peter get hurt.

She became more relaxed as time went on and Peter never seemed to be in real danger, even the bigger threats seemed to be no match for Spiderman. 

Her heart stopped pounding in her chest every time her phone went off, her palms stopped being sweaty every time Peter was late.

And her mind stopped jumping to the worst conclusions when Karen sent her the updates on Peter's status.

She started to fall into a false sense of security, and began to think that Peter would truly be alright after all.

So when she got an alert sent to her phone that Peter put on the suit after school one day, she didn't think anything of it. 

She didn't pay any mind at first when Karen sent her updates, and she even put her phone on silent as she dealt with a patient.

It was only when she got home, tired and bleary eyed from a long shift at the hospital, to see Tony standing in her living room, still wearing the Ironman suit that she knew something was seriously wrong.

And she should really be used to it by now.

Her world ending and opening up at her feet.

But she was still taken by surprise every time.

And every time it hurt worse than the last.

Peter was missing and for days nobody knew what happened to him. Nobody could say for sure where he had gone to, but Tony kept her in the loop about everything he could. He called her every day, had Happy spend time with her constantly, and reassured her that everything would be okay.

That Peter would be found and everything would be right again.

She wasn't able to see the footage from the call with the Sinister Six but Tony told her what the doctor had said to them. That they were going to take care of Peter now. That he was no longer the Avengers responsibility.

Her blood had run cold and she felt faint at the information.

These were men that hated Spiderman, hated Peter. 

There was no way that was true, that they were being kind to her kid.

She couldn't sleep for days, thinking about how they could be torturing him. What they were doing to him.

She had a nervous break down at work after that, and Tony had swooped in to help her retain her job while helping her get well.

He hired a personal psychologist for her to talk to, and work with, when it finally came time to report Peter as missing.

They had put it off as long as they could, giving lies to his school that he was on a trip for his internship with Stark Industries. They didn't want his disappearance to tie in with Spiderman's, but after a week and half of being no closer to finding Peter they had to report it.

Being at the police station again brought back memories of the night of Ben's murder, and May felt like she would've faded away if it wasn't for Happy's hand on hers. Just like Peter's had been all those years ago.

They came up with a story about his disappearance, knowing the details didn't need to be right since the cops had no hope of finding Peter themselves. It was only to keep the police from suspecting May, if someone else reported Peter missing first.

The story was he had gone missing after a conference with Stark Industries, something he would attend since he was Tony Stark's personal intern. They had F.R.I.D.A.Y mess with the security footage, splicing together old clips of Peter to make it look like he was there, and heading out the back door, alone. 

The police could try and work with that, and May could keep them off her back.

She spent most of her days in bed, with Ned coming to visit her every day after school. He made her tea and food as he told her about inane things that happened to him. She appreciated every second of him being there, it kept her from thinking about Peter. 

It kept her grounded, and she realized too it helped Ned in a way as well. It helped him to be in his best friend's apartment, surrounded by his presence, and to speak with his aunt like he normally would when he and Peter hung out anyways.

They both comforted each other as best they could.

But for as much as everyone was trying to take care of her, May felt like nothing could really comfort her. Nothing would bring her peace.

Nothing except Peter returning home.

She returned to work after a while, needing something to occupy her time and her mind and she could see the way her co-workers looked at her.

With sadness. With pity.

And she wasn't even upset about the looks, or the gentle ways they spoke to her. She didn't mind everyone treating her like a fragile bird.

She certainly felt like one.

But work helped. Seeing to patients that were in pain, scared, and hurting was cathartic in a way. It helped knowing she wasn't the only one, as awful as that felt to think.

She was slowly regaining some semblance of herself when she returned home late after pulling a double. She was so tired that she almost missed the burner phone sitting on her counter with a note attached to it.

She picked up the note, seeing handwriting unfamiliar but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was the name scrawled on the paper and the phone number to call.

The note only said Peter and her heart jumped in her throat.

May should've called Tony immediately, should've left her apartment and waited for the Avengers to come. But her mind shut off and her body moved on its own as she dialed the number, heart beating a mile a minute. 

The phone picked up and she could hear a raspy breath on the other line and she spoke the name aloud that she hadn't dared say with hope in weeks.

"Peter?"

The beat of silence felt like an eternity before the shaking voice of her nephew responded, "Aunt May? Is that really you?"

The walls she had been slowly building back up to keep herself together came crumbling down and she sank to the kitchen floor, clutching the phone so tight she was worried it would break. "Oh sweetheart, oh my god. It's me Peter, it's me!" She cried, putting her hand to her mouth to muffle the sobs. Even now she was trying to keep it together for her nephew when all she wanted to do was break down.

The call was short, too short, and when the man who took Peter spoke to May all she could see was red.

This man had the audacity to try and _console_ her when he was the one responsible for her pain. Responsible for Peter's pain.

And there was no doubt he was in pain. She could hear it in his voice, even though he promised her they weren't hurting him.

She could hear it in every cry, every crack, every stutter. Her child was in pain and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

And when Peter asked her if he could speak to Ben, she felt her world shatter a little more.

Peter had admitted to her after their night spent on the living room floor, weeping and clutching one another, that he saw Ben on occasion.

He saw him at the park, their local bodega. He saw him when he was swinging through the city chasing down bad guys.

She had told him then it was normal, that she too saw Ben sometimes. That sometimes it was so real she was convinced it was actually him.

Never once though did she think her husband to still be alive, and Peter didn't either. It was a secret wish they always carried with them, but it was just that.

A wish, not reality.

So for Peter to ask, to sound convinced Ben Parker was in fact alive, she knew there was something wrong. That whatever these men had done to Peter had broken him, and the thought of it was the final straw.

When the dial tone rang out, May allowed herself to sink back to the floor and lie there.

She made no sounds and she had no more tears left to cry. She was devoid of any feeling but an absolute, never ending sorrow. It seeped into her bones and tasted like death on her tongue.

The only thing keeping her from giving up completely was the thought of Peter, of being able to speak with him again tomorrow.

She almost forgot what the doctor said about her being watched, until the sound of a window sliding open greeted her ears.

The startling realization that someone was in her house ignited her fight or flight response and and she sat up quickly, pressing herself to the back of the kitchen island, trying to hide from whoever entered her home.

She heard muffled footsteps and looked around wildly for a weapon. All of her knives were in the drawer to her right and she couldn't retrieve one without alerting the person.

Her heartbeat was in her eardrums, loud and unsettling, and she just about risked going for the knife before a voice stopped her.

"I know you're behind the counter Mrs. Parker. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to help."

May said nothing, her breathing erratic and the dial tone still echoing in the burner phone. She could call the police but she didn't think the man would let her do that.

There wasn't a doubt in her mind about who the man in her apartment was. It was one of the Sinister Six.

It was one of Peter's kidnappers.

"Like you're helping my kid?" She yelled, trying to cover her fear with anger. "Forgive me if I don't believe you."

The man stopped shuffling and she could hear a faint sigh before he spoke again. "I understand your anger, I know I'm not someone you want in your house right now. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to help. I want to help you, and I want to help Peter-"

"Then where is he?" She screamed. "If you want to help you would've brought him to me!"

"That's why I'm here," He said slowly and carefully. "I want to bring Peter home to you... but I need your help first."

"Why should I believe you? You're more likely to kill me than help me." She had 911 dialed now, just waiting to press send but something about his tone was causing her to hesitate.

He sounded genuine, and he sounded a bit scared as well.

"I understand... I know I'm not the good guy here. I know that I helped kidnap a child. I'm aware of all of that, but I want to make amends. I want to do the right thing."

Her mind was reeling and she remembered Peter sobbing on their living room floor, screaming that he wanted to atone for Ben's murder, and she felt her heart plummet into her stomach.

"Why now?" She questioned. "Why the change of heart?

It was silent, the air was still, and only the static of the lightbulb from the lamp on the side table provided any kind of noise. 

She was ready to hit send when the man spoke up once more, voice so quiet she had to strain her ears to hear it.

"Because I care about Peter, and he is not well with us. It's like you said to Octavius... he will never be home with us... I only wish I had realized that sooner for his sake."

The man sucked in a breath and May's curiosity got the better of her. She stood up, peeking over the island to make sure it was safe to do so, before standing to her full height and confronting the man who had ripped her world from her.

Martin Li stood still, a single tear trekking down his face, and looked as broken as May felt.

And despite everything this man had put her through she couldn't help but feel sorry that he felt the same as her.

"If I could have brought Peter with me tonight I would've... but my colleagues do not have the same frame of mind as I do. It wouldn't have been safe for me to take him." Martin explained, eyes dark and somber. "This is the only time I can speak with you openly. One of my colleagues will come tomorrow to relieve me, and you will be under surveillance again." 

"What does that mean?" She asked, dreading the answer.

Martin swallowed around the lump in his throat and elaborated, "It means this is the only time you have to alert the Avengers to Peter's whereabouts. This is the moment and we need to act on it."

"You want me to contact the Avengers? I thought the whole point of this was to keep Peter away from them." May chewed around the words, her mind whirling. None of this made sense to her and the itch to flee was growing stronger with each second. The whole thing felt like a trap and she was about to be ensnared in it.

"It is... and I don't like the idea of Peter _reuniting_ with them lets say, but... I have tried to think of a different solution and there isn't time to come up with one. I knew that if I didn't seize this opportunity to be alone with you that I wouldn't get another one. You are the only one who can save Peter."

May snapped the burner phone shut and placed it on the counter. She stared hard at Martin, eyeing the man and trying to assess how truthful his words were.

"I will tell you Peter's location, and you must go to the Avengers now so they can get him. There will be a fight... but it's a fight they can win if they have the element of surprise. I will try and keep Peter safe when they arrive, I'll do my best to secure his rescue."

"You're willing to turn your back on your friends? All for my nephew?" May asked, voice uncharacteristically quiet as she tried to piece together the man before her. Tried to understand his goal.

Martin said nothing at first, hanging his head low, but when he lifted it there was a striking determination set and his skin seemed to brighten a bit. "Your nephew told me that I'm not a monster, but I am one. I've been one for a long time now... but I don't want to give in. I want to be better. I want to be a better man for those in my life I've failed... and for those who still need my help."

"You'll be arrested... they'll send you to the Raft." May whispered, eyes wide as Martin Li seemed even more assured. 

He nodded, "I understand... it's something I've come to terms with."

They stood across the room from one another, strangers but somehow not, and May couldn't help but let hope flit into her heart once again. Couldn't help but feel like her luck had finally turned around and the world would come back together once again.

That the fire would finally be put out.

Martin stepped forward, hands reaching for something in his pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. "This is where Peter is being held. I've laid out the floor plans as best I could to help them. Give this to Stark and let them handle the rest." He handed the paper to May and she took it with trembling hands. He seemed to notice her tremors and stepped back once the paper was in her grasp.

"I'm not going to say thank you." She muttered, eyes narrowing again and a wary smile came onto Martin's face.

"I see where Peter gets his spark from." He chuckled and made his way back over to the window, ready to climb out of it once again.

"You need to go now May Parker, my colleague will be here soon to relieve me and if you are not here by the time he arrives we will both never see Peter again." Martin Li warned, and without waiting for a response he left, quick in his descent down the fire escape. May ran to the window to look for him but he was gone and only the crisp autumn air was there to greet her.

She shut the window, locking it tightly and ran to grab her coat. The paper was still clutched in her hands as she left the apartment, coat tail swishing behind her as the door closed.

The apartment stood empty, eerie and desolate, and the sound of the buzzing lightbulb was all that remained in the Parker residence.

And the world settled once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So guys I wanna apologize for how long this took me to get out.
> 
> I was almost finished writing this the other day and my computer crashed just as I was at the end of the chapter and I lost... everything. The whole fucking chapter.
> 
> I was seething, I was so mad. I didn't have anything saved (which is completely on me) and I had to start from scratch, which took forever. And then my internet cut out the other night WHILE I WAS TRYING TO SAVE THIS FIC and I lost about half my story again. So I had to take a step back for my own fucking sanity cause I was convinced this chapter would never get posted tbh.
> 
> But I got my shit together, rewrote the whole goddamn thing, and it is finally here. 
> 
> I am so tired.
> 
> So I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter cause I certainly did not hahaha but I thought it was long overdue to write a May-centric chapter so here it is in all its computer crashing glory! So please forgive me for how long it took... fate had other plans for this I suppose.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed this first chapter!
> 
> For the story itself I am basing this off of a mix from the marvel movies, comics, and the spiderman ps4 game. So there is no linear timeline and lots of things will diverge from canon in this story. I literally am going to change things as they will suit the story better, if the complete disregard for canon story events bothers you then most likely you will not enjoy this fanfiction and I wanted to be upfront about that.
> 
> In this first chapter you'll notice that Vulture does not know about Peter and was unaware of how old Peter is even though in Spiderman Homecoming when he drops the building on him he is exactly aware of who Peter is. So things like this I will reference past fights or scenes from canon but the knowledge characters have may be different than the scenes I'm referring to. 
> 
> basically if you guys are ever confused about anything like this, feel free to shoot me a question and I'll be more than happy to answer it! Just know the canon is not going to be linear or even accurate a lot in this story and is more of a guide than a rulebook.


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